Scholarly
by witandwaldorf
Summary: Blair Waldorf, scholarship student, does not need Dan Humphrey's spare textbooks nor his other charitable inclinations. Dan Humphrey, elite Upper East Sider, can't stop trying to figure out the girl with all the headbands in his Intro to Film Class. Maybe that's why he won't stop loaning her his extra book. Dair role-reversal set at Yale
1. First Day

_**AN: Thank you to ASadAir for beta-ing again and for the concept! She's long been encouraging me to write a role-reversal Dair story and it was too fun a concept to resist.**_

_**This story will feature flashbacks as well as flashforwards to show Dan and Blair's full time at Yale. I always wanted to write a college fic and I know a few of you expressed interest in a Yale setting so I hope you all enjoy this new story. **_

* * *

_**Fall Semester | Freshman Year**_

The air around campus is electric, the charge so strong it practically sparks Blair Waldorf's sterling silver crystal headband. She reaches up instinctively, adjusting it, as she stands nervously before the door of her dorm room. Her _Yale _dorm room.

She's imagined this moment so many times before that each of her practiced movements come to life with ease. She half expects to open the door to a blonde roommate, glasses perched on her nose, frowning down at a book. A girl with hair the color of wheat is a natural top choice for her new best friend/roommate, but Blair supposes she'd settle for a redhead, with a quirky name like Mae. Preferably, she'll love classic movies just as much as Blair and they'll spend their evenings shirking all parties and hosting sophisticated soirees instead.

Squeezing her eyes shut, briefly, she tries to conjure the fictitious Mae into being. Yet, when she opens the door the room is empty. Hardwood floors gleam as though they've just been polished and Blair says a silent prayer to all the college gods, thanking them for assigning her to a newly renovated residence hall.

Blair rolls in her suitcases and sets to unpacking and decorating. By the time her room is bespectacled in portraits of Audrey Hepburn and movie posters, her roommate still hasn't arrived. She sinks down onto her tufted duvet, sighing in disappointment.

To occupy herself, she sends Nate the photo of her dorm she snapped as soon as she finished adorning it with her things. She doesn't send a message along with it, even though she wants to tell him how terribly she misses him. That would be too transparent. But she does prop up the stuffed bulldog he gave her onto the center of the bed so he sees it.

Blair flips through her itinerary for the week, wishing for the umpteenth time that the Elizabethan Club permitted freshmen. She just knows that they would adore her, good manners and all, in spite of her friendless, fatherless, and practically Dickensian upbringing. The Duchess of Cambridge herself would admit Blair membership were she a Yale student.

Sinking back onto a silky pillow, Blair feels a wave of gratitude to finally be out of Upstate. The place she never belonged. She's hit with a tiny pang of guilt as she pictures her mother sitting at her sewing machine frowning over shoddy seams with no daughter in sight to offer suggestions or help.

Growing up, the happiest fantasy a young Blair could conjure was herself situated in her Ivy League dorm room. But now, it's feeling a lot lonelier than she pictured. She thought she and her roommate would be halfway through their life stories by now in their already blossoming friendship.

With one last forlorn glance at the empty bed across from hers, Blair forces herself up and out of the solitary room. By leaving now, she'll be a little early to the orientation seminar but at least this way she can snag a good seat.

The auditorium is already filled with a few dozen freshmen and Blair is glad she didn't wait any longer for her AWOL roomie. She walks past the clamour of the back rows and brazenly takes a seat in the empty third row, unbothered by its lack of company. Once settled, she retrieves a few supplies from her school tote. The ivory blooms on her pale pink planner stare back at her in her lap and she flips to the month of September.

A dizzying excitement fills Blair as she looks at the empty squares, just waiting to be filled in with deadline dates and campus activities. Her phone buzzes in her purse beside her, a tiny Chloé crossbody bag that must have taken her mother a solid year to save up for.

Nate has replied with a photo of his own dorm room at Dartmouth, already littered with a couple of empty beer bottles and dirty socks. She smiles down at the image, the very epitome of her best friend's carefree attitude toward college. He's typed a message along with the photo:

_ How many black and white movies have you already subjected your roommate to?_

She types back:

_ None. She's MIA. Also, 'subjected'? You know my good taste in movies is half the reason why I'm your best friend._

Nate texts:

_ I bet she took one glance inside the room and asked for a new assignment_.

Blair is so busy texting back and forth she doesn't even notice the seats around her have filled up until there's the loud echo of someone tapping on a microphone. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see that two hardly idyllic candidates for friendship have sat next to her: a guy in a blazer who's drumming his fingers on his desk, to Blair's annoyance, and a girl who seems to plan on publishing a book based on this seminar with her scrawling hand detailing every word spoken.

Dismissing them with a flick of her gaze, Blair hurriedly turns her attention to the dean and tries to take notes, albeit less maniacally than her seatmate. By the time the seminar has concluded, the white squares in her planner's calendar are scattered with black ink. The seats beside her are empty, the unwelcomed duo having likely migrated elsewhere. Blair stands, feeling a little disappointed at how underwhelming this day has been for the beginnings of a new chapter.

An all too familiar feeling.

* * *

_**Twelfth Grade**_

_**Albany, NY.**_

_After a day spent listening to her classmates talk of their über romantic 'promposals' and dress-shopping plans, Blair wanted too desperately to forget about the upcoming dance. _

_But the deafening, disappointing sound of her mother's sewing machine whirring when she arrives home tells her talk of the prom is not yet over. __She knows exactly what the threads in the machine are weaving._

_Her prom dress._

_Each rhythmic movement furthers Blair's lukewarm anticipation of the supposed quintessential high school event that will certainly only further cement her hatred of this period in her life. A night that will be spent in a homemade dress._

_If asked where she got it, she'll have to either lie or confess that she and her mother didn't even have the money to buy from a thrift shop. Certainly not enough to even consider buying one of the Jovani dresses her classmates adored, not that she'd want one of those monstrosities with all the bedazzled necklines and over-bright hues._

_But still, she had hoped to wear a vintage Marc Jacobs or even at the very least an Alice + Olivia dress from a few seasons ago. Yet, the savings she had acquired from working the past three years at the local consignment shop was barely enough to cover the living expenses she would acquire once she went off to college. _

_She didn't voice any of this to her mother, of course not. She wasn't ungrateful enough to do that. It was times like this she wished she had a proper father to run interference, to perhaps gently suggest to her mother that Blair might like a dress of her own choosing. Preferably from a store not the living room she came home to everyday. _

_She thought of Harold, her sweet donor dad, and realized that level of parenting wasn't in his repertoire. Besides, they only talked once or twice a month, she couldn't ask him to negotiate. The dress was halfway done..._

_Her mother's designs were beautiful, yet there was something too familiar about them to truly make her feel like a princess for the night. Knowing exactly how each panel of fabric was stitched together somehow took the magic away. _

_At least she still had her prince, she reminded herself. Nate Archibald was taking her to prom. As a friend, but still. Prom with Nate... Yale next year… It was all coming together. _

_Even if she still had to sleep on itchy 200-thread-count sheets and would have to wake up at 6 AM every morning this summer for her internship at the local paper. _

_Three more months and she'd be at Yale. _

_Three more months and no more pricked fingers from needles and watching her mother fail to secure her own dreams. _

_The mechanical hum fades as she walks into her boxy bedroom and she lets out an exhale._

* * *

There's something familiar about the glint Dan spots out of the corner of his eye in the second event of the welcome day at Yale. He turns ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of the light source and sees it's a girl's crystal-studded headband that's threatening to blind him. A flicker of recognition tells him maybe he was in the same orientation as her earlier. But before he can properly survey the headband-wearing girl's face, a screeching voice halts him.

"What the fuck, Dan?" An unmistakable shrill comes over his shoulder. "I told you to save me a seat. Definitely not one in the front row either. Come on, let's move toward the back."

Dan whirls around to see Georgina Sparks hovering behind his chair, looking annoyed. Her ice blue eyes keep flicking meaningfully in the direction of a pair of empty seats in the corner of the auditorium.

He dutifully stands with a release of his breath and follows Georgina to the empty chairs. Why he indulges her is inexplicable, even to him, it's not like Serena is here to scold him for snubbing her best friend. This is college too, he doesn't need the protection of the few Upper East Side allies he had. No one knows his backstory here, yet there he goes following her every request. Perhaps simply because it's easier to go along with Georgina's imperiousness. He doesn't have the backbone to go toe-to-toe with her.

Dan was truthfully shocked that she even made it to the campus. He thought his stepsister's pleas for her best friend to take a year off would succeed, yet Georgina was here. For the foreseeable future, Georgina would be buried in textbooks while Serena was off sunning in the tropics. Dan mentally fact-checked himself; it was more likely some hopeless scholar student would be the one buried in books on Georgina's behalf as she paid them to ace all her classes.

While the speaker up at the podium drones on over on-campus clubs and extracurriculars, the auditorium stays silent. Dan wants to pull out his phone to do a quick Google search of the next flight out to Turks and Caicos he could put Georgina on but the glow of his phone would only put more attention on him. He knows this because Georgina's own face is alight with the blue reflection of her phone. He glances over to see her gazing longingly at a photo of a cerulean sea and white sand beach Serena just posted.

Dan has the sudden desire to slip out of his seat while she's distracted and sit somewhere further away. Maybe back beside the girl with the shiny crown. But he knows he's stuck; Georgina's surprisingly strong arm would reel him back if he even leaned forward too far.

So instead, he listens quietly and thinks up five hundred ways to get rid of one Georgina Sparks.

* * *

After the welcome dinner has concluded and Blair has made approximately zero friends, she's struck with a bit of regret. Maybe she should have gotten that glasses-wearing girl phone number from the seminar earlier. _Nelly_, she thinks was her name. Or even that fidgety guy that had sat next to her. Then, her Yale contact list wouldn't be quite so desolate. At this rate, she'd be defaulted into a single dorm without her consent. No one wanted to room with the social pariah.

Trying to cheer herself, Blair brightens at the thought that her roommate might have finally moved in. If she did so while orientation was happening, she might be just as desperately in need of friends as Blair.

With a tiny tremor of excitement, she pushes her dorm door open to see indeed, it's finally occupied. A long mane of shiny inky hair is bouncing around as a girl slams a dresser door shut. There's a ferocity to her movements that makes Blair slightly uneasy.

"Hi," Blair says tentatively.

The girl spins around, her face unfriendly, and Blair is instantly stricken as she realizes she recognizes her. The girl with the glacial eyes from the seminar earlier. She was the one who had whisked away the guy two seats over. Everyone, including Blair, had turned to see who the domineering girl was barging into the seminar with her rampant cursing.

At the time, she was sort of grateful for the tornado swooping him away- after all, she was fairly certain he was the culprit responsible for the echoing sound of drum beats in her head. But now, she suddenly rues the girl's existence.

Her eyes are now lit with something like mischief as she surveys Blair. "Well, hello. Aren't you adorable with your little tiara?"

"It's a headband." Blair corrects, touching it self-consciously, suddenly feeling like she's fallen prey to a domineering predator in the wild.

"So cute," The girl says in long vowels, striding over. "I'm Georgina."

"Blair." Her voice becomes tense as her hand is wrapped in a vice-like grip by Georgina. When she finally releases her, Blair has to clench and unclench her fist a few times.

"This is going to be so fun!" Georgina announces suddenly, surprising and terrifying Blair. She really is the prey...

"It is?" Blair asks with hesitation. She walks over to her dresser and starts straightening the framed photos to escape Georgina's eager gaze. _Her and Nate at prom in her tulle shimmery dress, graduation day with her mom's arm wrapped tightly around her… _The photos make her stomach churn suddenly.

"Of course it is." Georgina clasps her hands together. "Now, I hope you don't mind but I took the liberty of taking down that old guy's photo from the wall. It'll hardly encourage the lacrosse guys to hang out in our room."

"You took down Cary?" Blair asks with mournful eyes.

Blair glances over to Georgina's side of the room to see what sort of photos she has up and she instantly regrets it. Georgina surrounded by impossibly beautiful friends in designer dresses, another shot with her and two guys- all of them school uniforms, then one glamour shot of just herself, figures.

"Sorry." Georgina feigns an apologetic expression. "Maybe you can tuck your Grandpa Cary's photo into your nightstand or something."

"He's not my Grandpa." Blair says defensively, wishing she could rewind this whole day. This wasn't how her first day at Yale was supposed to go. She and her roommate were supposed to _swoon _over Cary Grant together not call him Grandpa. "That's Cary Gra- Nevermind."

Blair sighs in resignation. "So. Georgina." She punctuates each of her words with precision, as though that might help her take hold of the situation. "Have you decided on your major yet?"

"God, no." Georgina rolls her eyes. "Don't tell me you already have?"

"Of course, I have." Blair says, aghast. She thought all Ivy Leaguers had detailed five-year, ten-year, and fifteen-year plans mapped out for their personal and professional lives. "Film and Media Studies."

"Oh, you're one of those." Georgina surveys Blair in a dismissive way. "Pretentious."

Blair jolts at her roommates brashness, offended by her rudeness. She can't help her defensive tone as she replies. "Not pretentious. Cultured."

"Fuck." Georgina lets out a breath as though completely resigned. Then she gives her a measured look. "You sound _exactly _like Dan."

Blair presumes this is Georgina's boyfriend and she can't help but wonder how she's struggling to even get a platonic relationship while Georgina has already shackled someone down by the first day of college. She assumes this is a new relationship- it's not like Georgina is the high-school sweetheart type. She probably eats men and spits them back out at a shark's pace.

"Dan?" Blair asks to be polite even though she couldn't care less who this Dan figure is. Probably a total asshole if he has the patience to deal with this girl. She doesn't know why, but she wants to know how this cultured, friendly individual came to be involved with someone so callous and crass.

"Dan." Georgina repeats, as though Blair should understand. "My best friend's stepbrother. _Dan_. I can't really describe him any other way. You'll meet him sooner or later I'm sure, I apologize in advance for his tendency to ramble and be, _well_, so uncultivated."

"What does that mean?" Blair asks curiously. _Was he a total barbarian frat bro or something? _

"You'll find out." Georgina replies breezily. "Anyway, I'm so over this whole unpacking thing, Claire. You don't mind if I leave these boxes here, do you?" She points to the center of the room which is scattered with plastic tubs and cardboard cubes overflowing with knicknacks. "I'm exhausted and need to go get a drink. A frat party must be happening somewhere around here."

"It's Blair." Blair says through her teeth. Her roommate likes frat parties, can't even get her name right, and Blair doesn't know how she didn't expect this.

"Right." Georgina cuts a hand through the air, as though that's what she said.

Blair waits for Georgina to ask her to tag along. Blair would say no, probably, but Georgina doesn't offer anyway. Instead, her pale legs stride across the room with purpose and she's gone in a whirl, the door slamming shut so hard that Blair's hair is pushed off her face with a flourish.

Blair is left surrounded by overstuffed boxes and the swimming sensation of homesickness.

* * *

**TBC...**

**I hope you all don't mind that I'm basically writing yet another slow burn, friends to lovers Dair story. It's my default it seems. **

**PS I'm almost done writing the epilogue for Pearl Island!**


	2. Headbands and Books

**AN: I'm so sorry for the unexpected FF hiatus. My daily life got unexpectedly so busy that I had no time to write or even log on. I missed this site and all of you all the while but I felt so bad for leaving fics unfinished and it took me a while to finally motivate myself to log back on. Thanks to the amazing ASadAir who beta'd this chapter way back and by doing so, allowed me to return with ****a fic update! I really thought I would be returning to this site with no work to make-up for the hiatus but ASadAir saved the day :) :) Thank you all for your patience and if you're still reading, it truly means everything :) I'm still pretty busy day-to-day and can't promise weekly updates but I am really going to strive for bi-weekly chapters. **

* * *

Despite her first day qualms, Yale proves to be better than it had been in all of Blair's vivid imaginations. The campus air feels like it's infused with a heavy dose of opium and she practically glides to and from her classes. By the end of the week, her shoulder aches from overstuffed totes, filled with texts and notebooks. Yet, she's never felt lighter.

The only thing still missing in her collegiate dreamworld is the reliable circle of friends and the tight-knit roomie relationship. But there's still plenty of time to fix that and there's no time like the present.

"I was thinking," Blair says on Saturday. "We should have a sushi soiree in our dorm. So we can meet everyone else in our building."

Georgina's eyes flick up from where they had been idly glancing through a magazine. "A sushi party?"

Blair feels an instant wave of regret at her suggestion upon surveying Georgina's wrinkled nose. She forces her voice to be breezy, just like she'd been practicing since the age of three- the way they talk in Sex In The City, so she'd sound a little more Uptown than Upstate. "Yes. We could make the rolls together using a video tutorial and then serve it up on vintage platters. Maybe just invite our floor, so there's enough for everyone."

This explanation only seems to bemuse Georgina further. "I hate fish."

"We'll make veggie rolls, in that case. Avocado, cucumber, carrot, maybe even sweet potato." Blair presses on, not letting Georgina deter her. "I think it would be a great way to branch out."

Georgina shakes her head. "I don't think so, I'm going to go meet up with a few friends now actually. So I'll see you later."

Blair sinks back onto the bed bemoaning the fact that even in college, even at Yale, she still can't quite seem to fit in.

* * *

_**11th grade.**_

_**Albany, NY.**_

_"Zoe," Jessica's perfectly symmetrical face rests on her hands, poised like a schoolgirl. "Tell us what happened with Brent."_

_Snap._

_Blair breaks her carrot stick in half and then in half again until it's bite-sized. She drops it, letting it fall onto the ground of the cafeteria._

_"So I obviously had to push him off of me. Like ew, a freshman, 'I date seniors only, thank you.'" Zoe waves her ring-clad hand dismissively._

_Blair is trying so hard not to listen but it's impossible not to hear the chatter and let it drag the blade through her chest a little deeper. Another Monday, another story of the party she wasn't invited to. By her so-called friends._

_"Honestly, Zo," Juliet begins, sagely, her cerulean eyes full of self-important wisdom. "It would have been social suicide to hook-up with him. I probably wouldn't have let you sit with us today."_

_Jessica titters, as though Juliet's just said the funniest thing and Blair has the urge to be sick. She stands up, starts to make an excuse, but then realizes if they didn't care enough to invite her to the rager at Damien's Saturday night then they probably won't even notice she's gone._

_Another wave of nausea hits at the thought and she makes it into the bathroom stall just in time._

_Afterward, she pops a mint in her mouth and tells her reflection she won't do that again. At least not once she finds herself some new friends._

* * *

Dan is in line at the bookstore trying to decide if he should just order his textbooks online in used condition like everyone else. But Lily wouldn't hear of it, he was certain. Georgina would probably rat out his frugal college lifestyle and then he'd have to hear about how Daniel, a used textbook doesn't show how serious you are about academia.

More like, a stepson who buys used textbooks might damage her already treacherous Upper East Side reputation. Marrying a former rockstar had its cons, at least in the eyes of the WASPs.

Sometimes, he wondered what his life would have been like if his father hadn't married Lily van der Woodsen when he was five. They certainly wouldn't have lived in the sprawling townhouse overlooking Central Park. Maybe they would have been in his father's old loft in Williamsburg. The place Lily compared to a mechanic's workshop. As though she had ever maintained or even driven a vehicle before.

Every now and then, a memory from toddlerhood pops into his brain and the fuzzy reverie always slips away before he can properly analyze it. He doesn't know why but he could swear these brief flashes seem happier than any of the memories he's ever made in the sterile place he called 'home' for the past thirteen years of his life.

One time, he asked Jenny if she ever missed Brooklyn and she just furrowed her brow. She didn't even remember living there. In her eyes, the stork had dropped her off on Fifth Avenue in a silk swaddle and Lily had pushed her home in a pram.

Jenny's whole perspective of her life seemed to be a reverse Cinderella story, in fact. Lily was a fairy godmother who bippity boppity boo'ed her into happiness and her own biological mother served as the evil stepmother. Anytime they went to visit Alison in Hudson Jenny would call it 'banishment.' She acted like Hudson was someplace to be ashamed of stepping foot in.

Thinking of it now and feeling another fresh wave of irritation, Dan opens up Amazon and presses order on a used copy of "Film Studies: An Introduction" with a few ink stains on the cover. Just to spite Lily.

He regrets it instantly, she is the one paying for the Ivy League education and decides to stay in line like the good stepson he is. But he doesn't press cancel on the used copy order, he has a feeling he might want it after all.

When he gets back to his dorm, his roommate is out and Dan has the sparse room all to himself. He glances around at the bare walls wondering if he should hang some art. Maybe next time he's in Hudson he'll see if he can salvage a painting of his mother's that's not horribly inappropriate. He still cringes at the memory of stumbling upon a ten-foot-high painting of Alison's sheet-draped boyfriend, Alexander, last winter break.

For now, he hangs up a few records above his bed and he decides it makes the room look a tiny bit less soulless. He feels accomplished realizing that he's spruced up his dorm and avoided Georgina Sparks for an entire week.

He'd call that a pretty good start to college.

* * *

Blair is late to her Intro to Film class on Monday and has to sit next to another fidgety guy, or perhaps that same one she keeps running into. He's clad with two copies of the Film 150 required textbook. _Showoff_, she thinks in irritation, she couldn't even afford _one_. The last used copy had sold before she could hit checkout her shopping cart on Amazon yesterday.

"Open to page 32 of your books," Professor Donovan instructs before beginning his lecture. Luckily, it should cover most of whatever would be written in the book. So, Blair just flips to a blank page in her notebook filling in the date in the upper right corner and begins dutifully scrawling everything he says.

Just as her hand is beginning to cramp only a quarter of the way through the lecture, something bulky is slid across the armrest dividing and her seatmate. She glances down and looks up to find the showoff offering his extra book.

In a flash, his brown-eyed gaze is flicked back to the front of the lecture hall as the book teeters between them. He doesn't pay it any more attention like he really couldn't care if she takes it or not.

She's pretty sure this is the strangest interaction she's had on campus yet. She subtly glances over to see what page his book is opened to. Flipping the pages of the borrowed copy, Blair notices hers is brand new while his own is blotted with ink. Strange he wouldn't just let her use the worn-down version and keep the new one for himself. Though that would have been tacky, so she supposes she should give him credit for chivalry. And for saving her hand from imminent carpal tunnel.

After the lecture has concluded, Blair passes the book back to him without meeting his eye.

"I forgot mine, so thank you." The lie spills out easily in a smooth, crisp tone.

If she's lucky, by tomorrow there'll be a new listing for a used copy online she can order and have arrive by Wednesday's class. He'll never know that at the start of class she had willed her brain to go photographic and memorize each and every page of the book she couldn't afford.

"No problem." He replies, getting to his feet. His eyes flick up to her headband and she fights back the urge to touch the silky-satin band. She feels his gaze drop and they make eye contact for just a fraction of a section before something weird appears in his gaze. Disappointment, perhaps.

_Or more likely, judgment._

Then, he's gone and she's left with the awareness that once again she didn't meet the expectations of yet another fellow student. Just like with Georgina.

He could probably smell the scholarship on her. Her nearly-empty book bag with its fraying handles probably gave away her middle-class status.

Guys with enough money to duplicate all their textbooks weren't interested in girls who couldn't even afford one. She didn't need the memories of Jessica or Zoe or even Juliet's wild weekend antics compared with her own bookish Saturdays to remind her of just how undesirable she was.

That single dismissive look from him had done that for her.

As she walks out of class, she tries to be thankful that at least he hadn't called her out on her lie.

* * *

_**9th grade.**_

_**Albany, NY**_

_Their laughter is deafening, echoing off the empty hallways. Blair wants to jam the ends of her headbands into her ears so she doesn't have to hear it anymore._

_"Blair," Jessica heaves. "You didn't actually think Damien Dalgaard would ask you out, did you?"_

_Juliet chimes in. "Oh B, this is why we adore you. You're just priceless."_

_"Guys," Zoe tries to come to her defense. "I mean Blair wouldn't know any better would she? To those who have never been kissed, 'Bring your notebook' might very well be the signal."_

_Blair cuts in, defensively. "I've been kissed."_

_Her cheeks flare, giving away her lie._

_"By who?" Juliet challenges._

_"Nate." The lie is easy and automatic. It's hardly a lie if it'll be true soon, anyway, Blair rationalizes._

_"Oh yeah, 'Nate.'" Juliet uses air quotes as though Nate is her imaginary friend, which she probably thinks he is._

_"We're actually going to the football game together on Friday night," Blair says in sudden inspiration, instantly regretting it. She hates football and she doesn't even know if Nate is free then. But she'll make him be free, whatever it takes. She'll cry if she has to, that'll work._

_Juliet arches a well-groomed eyebrow. "Really? Jess and I were just talking about going to watch Zo cheer. Let's all sit together then. I can't wait to meet Nate." She uses that incredulous tone again._

_"Perfect." Blair shoves her quivering hands under the table, praying they don't give her anxiety away._

_On her way to fourth period, she rapid-fire texts Nate on her flip phone._

_Please, please come to the football game at my school Friday night. Please._

_Nate replies:_

_Football? Don't you hate sports?_

_Blair hovers by the classroom door, typing:_

_I do, but this is important. So you'll come?_

_Yeah, fine._

_Thanks! You're the best. Xoxoxo_

_She deletes the last 'xo' and presses send before going into class with a beaming smile._

* * *

Dan sits in the fourth row of the lecture hall watching as the girl with the headband studiously avoids him by taking a seat on the opposite side of the aisle. In the privacy of his mind, he's unimaginatively nicknamed her 'Headbands.' Not knowing much about her, he couldn't think of anything less trite.

On Monday, he thought he was doing her a favor by lending her his book, in fact, he had been about to tell her to keep it. It's not like he needed it. But then he finally looked away from that distracting headband she wore to properly observe her face and his words slipped out from under him. Looking in her eyes was like deja vu. He knew he had never met her yet for some reason, he recognized her. Or at least, he had recognized those somber brown eyes which though guarded, had stirred some long-forgotten memory in his brain.

It spooked him so instead of offering back the book, he fled. He didn't want to think about what those eyes meant or what that vague emotion reminded him of.

Today, when he arrived to class he had resolved to attempt to offer the book once more. He washed his brain of all inky traces of that feeling that had blotted his mind during their last interaction and now, he was ready to conduct himself in the generous manner Lily would love to brag about. Compassion was his most redeeming quality in her eyes.

But Headbands was making that impossible. It was mildly infuriating considering he was planning to give her the brand new book too, not the splotchy one. But now, with her sitting all the way across the room he can hardly bestow it upon her.

_Whatever_, he thinks. At least this way, he can keep the book and sell it back online. Not that he needs the money but still, it's less of a hassle than trying to be generous to someone who clearly didn't want any help.

It's then that he thinks of Vanessa, picturing her at NYU, camcorder in hand. Another person who didn't "need his handouts." He tries desperately to remember the last good day they had together, before the break-up. It's not until the lecture has concluded and the room has emptied out that he remembers.

It was the day they rented rowboats in the park. As they flailed the oars about in their poor attempts at steering, they had discussed the many ways their relationship wouldn't change once they were at college with the naivety expected of a pair of eighteen-year-olds.

As Dan stalks off to his next class, he attempts to put the past behind him. Forget Vanessa, forget Headbands and all other girls who remind him of simpler times, of lofts in Brooklyn and trust fund-free futures. Out-of-focus memories that'll never become sharp even with fierce determination.

They all fade successfully into the recesses of his mind. Until the blonde girl in Friday's class asks if the seat next to him is taken and he says yes, without even thinking. Like his brain auto-piloted to saving the seat for Headbands.

So much for putting the past behind him.

A few minutes later Headbands walks up the carpeted steps, glances around the filled lecture hall and heaves an audible sigh as she realizes the only empty seat is the one next to him. She drops into the seat he's accidentally saved for her with her gaze averted, pointedly away from him. Somewhere across the room, the blonde is glaring at him, Dan can feel it.

But he ignores the daggers as he pushes the extra book over the threshold again. He watches Headbands, in case she looks up, but she doesn't. This time, she takes the offering without hesitation nor a single glance his way. It seems she's resigned to the fact that this is their new arrangement and she'll be accepting his extra book every week whether she wants to or not.

He tries not to smile as he sinks back into his seat.


	3. Alternative Forms of Communication

**AN: Thank you so much for staying with this story :) Another thank you to ASadAir for continuing to beta and motivate me to write! **

* * *

Falling into this routine - sitting next to Books, as she's nicknamed him, three days a week, pretending she doesn't notice him - is easier for Blair than it should be. Each Monday, Wednesday, and Friday they sit in the fourth row, he passes his book to her, she passes it back silently, and they part ways.

_Sort-of._

It turns out he's also in her Thursday ENGLISH 467 journalism class. She's simultaneously disappointed and comforted when she realizes it. Seeing him again on Thursdays sort of takes away the magic of film class, or it should. But at the same time, it makes her feel less alone in this school of strangers. She may not know his name or even why he lends her his book all the time, but she knows his face. Somehow, that's enough.

Besides, on Thursdays they don't sit together. That would just be weird.

He sits on the left side of the class and she takes the right - next to Nelly Yuki, her first official college friend. She instantly recognized Nelly as the insane note-taker from orientation but decides it could be useful being friends with a girl like that.

Plus, Nelly Yuki is here on scholarship too. So that's something. Unlike her silent dynamic with Books, she and Nelly actually talk. Hence how she gained the information on Nelly's student status - after class, the two of them have taken to studying together in the library. Even though their majors differ, they share a few of the same degree requirements.

As soon as Friday rolls around she's back to sitting beside Books for one and a half hours while she uses his book. She's contemplated writing a note to him there. But what would she say?

_My name is Blair. What's yours?_

No, too lame, she realizes.

_Stop drumming your fingers on your book, it drives me insane._

She actually might write that right now as Books taps away incessantly at the hardback cover. As though reading her mind, he suddenly stops. She wonders if they've engaged in a new form of silent communication: telepathy.

Thinking hard, she wills him to listen: _If you can hear me, tap your fingers three times._

Nothing.

She feels foolish.

_Maybe this is what college is like _, Blair muses as she tries and fails to focus on Professor Donovan's lecture.

Maybe it's all wordless colloquy and reluctant friendships. She'll never know his name and he'll never know hers. There's something poetic about that, she realizes.

Bored, she tries telepathy again as the lecture comes to a close a half hour later.

_Look at me at the end of class, _her mind says to him.

The professor wishes them a good weekend and she hands the book back, deciding not to avoid eye contact today. She wants to test her theory.

His hands close on the book and he looks up at her with a glint in his eyes. Her stomach gives a whirl, as though being churned, at the fact that he can read her mind indeed.

Despite the fact that it is a ridiculous and impossible notion, she floats off to her next class in a bubble victorious, fighting off the smile forming at the corner of her lips.

She's made a second friend without even having to say a word.

_Huh_, Dan thinks as he watches Headbands skip out of the class. That time, when he looked at her there were no memories jostled loose. Just the strange sensation of an instant connection. A friendship, maybe, he thinks.

That night in his dorm, alone again because his roommate is still MIA, he writes in the textbook before he can think better of it. He guesses which page will be next used in the lecture but he's pretty sure anywhere in Chapter Four is a safe bet.

_**I like your headbands.**_

Creepy, he cringes, reading his own words. Rapidly, he erases it, grateful he used pencil. Had he used ink, he would have had to start giving her the used textbook again which might seem a reproach.

He tries again.

_**Your headbands make you look like a princess.**_

He wonders if he should say queen instead but no, they make her look like a princess not a queen. There's something too delicate about her features to be queenly.

Really, he shouldn't say anything at all. The arrangement they have is working just fine. Three days a week they share a book and then they go their separate ways not to interact again until the next week.

He doesn't need to know her name, where she's from, or why she wears all those headbands.

The eraser hovers over the page but before he can decide whether or not to erase them, his phone starts ringing. He snaps the book shut, crossing the room to his phone to answer the call.

It's Vanessa and they carry on the longest conversation they've had since the break-up.

All thoughts of Headbands have long dissipated from Dan's mind by the time he hangs up and he forgets all about the words he scrawled on page eighty-four.

* * *

_**10th grade.**_

_**Albany, NY.**_

_A note is flicked onto Blair's desk and she unfurls it with interest._

**I don't know what to write. I've just always wanted to pass a note. It seems a very American thing to do.**

_Blair smiles down at the crumpled piece of paper in her hand before sending a grin toward Marcus beside her. As soon as the teacher looks away, she writes back:_

**Usually notes say things like:**

**Meet me at my locker after class**

**OMG did you hear what happened at the party Saturday?**

**Did you study?**

**Can I copy your test answers?**

**And so on… So I hope that helps your Americanization.**

_It takes her a full five minutes to find an opportunity to pass it back to him. She wishes she would have written in there how about the main art in note passing is the matter in which you do it._

_Marcus begins writing back, not even bothering to wait until the teacher's attention is diverted again. It doesn't matter anyway, Mrs. Buckley adores Marcus._

**Alright. I'll wait by your locker after class. Then, what?**

**PS I find it hard to believe you would ever copy off someone else's answers.**

**PPS What did happen at the party on Saturday?**

_Blair suppresses a laugh when she reads it._

**I wouldn't cheat. Those were just examples. You don't really need to meet me at my locker after class.**

**PS I wasn't invited to the party on Saturday so I have no idea.**

_Marcus shakes his head as he reads it. After class, he follows her out and says, "I feel like I'm a proper citizen now."_

"_You really aren't yet," Blair tells him. "You tried to pay for your refill at the Oyster House last night. And you complained when your tea had ice in it. In fact, if I recall correctly, you called it an abomination."_

"_Of course I did," Marcus rallies. "Who puts ice in tea? Perhaps one or two cubes to cool it but a whole cup full? That was not tea. No."_

_His cheeks reddened with new fire, Blair laughs. "I still have so much to teach you."_

"_I guess so." He smiles, softening. "Do you want to teach me more about being American this weekend maybe? At the movies? I'm guessing that'll be a whole new experience."_

_Blair feels her cheek flush, stupidly. It's not like it's a date._

"_A date." Marcus says suddenly and Blair wonders if he heard her thoughts._

"_Oh." She says in surprise, then corrects herself. "Yes, I mean. Yes. I would like that very much."_

"_Brilliant." He beams. "We'll decide on the details via note-passing tomorrow in class. It seems the most practical way to discuss it."_

"_The most fun way, you mean?"_

"_Exactly." He grins at her. "Going to be late to my next class, see you in English tomorrow."_

"_See you." Blair watches him walk away in a fog of happiness._

_Her first date. And it's with a cute British exchange student._

_Take that Juliet._

* * *

"Alright everyone," Professor Donovan begins. "Let's open our books to page eighty-two. We're going to dive into Chapter Four of the text. I hope you all brought your books."

Blair senses Books stiffening beside her and she glances over to see him staring with interest at the book he passed her at the beginning of class. She checks to see if he handed her the right one and finds that yes, he did. Shrugging off his fixed gaze, she flips to page eighty-two and begins to take notes on the instruction.

When she gets to page eighty-four, her mind is flashing back to the tenth grade. She didn't even know note-passing was still a thing. She figured iPhones eliminated the need.

But yet, there it is. In scrawling, cramped handwriting. A note. To her.

_Your headbands make you look like a princess._

She's about to prickle all over at the sarcasm until she makes out the faint traces of a different set of words just above it. Words that look like they said, _I like your headbands._

She wonders why he erased it.

Feeling herself smile, she glances over at where he's staring at the page. He looks up in time to catch her smile and their eyes meet momentarily. Then, she diverts her attention back to the professor as she decides how to proceed.

Before class ends, she's written back in her neatest cursive handwriting the following:

_**You just lowered your book's resale condition from "Like New" to "Fair" or maybe even "Poor" if you keep up your habit of writing in it.**_

_**While I help to deteriorate its quality, I feel compelled to ask… Why two copies of the same book?**_

Blair hands it back over to Books and hurries out of class before he can read her notes and answer them in person. She doesn't want to tinge the magic of their silent friendship with actual conversation.

Blair feels a bit foolish on Tuesday as keeps staring at the clock, waiting for the hours to pass and tick into Wednesday. This sort of obsessive behavior is indicative of her level of loneliness.

She opens her email once she's back in her dorm, eager for a distraction from her waiting game. At the top of her inbox is a message from Harold, her donor dad, and she smiles as she reads his well wishes.

Replying to him, she wishes she had a photo to send him along with the descriptions of her lackluster Ivy League life. But the only photographic evidence she has that she indeed is at Yale is the snap she took of her dorm room on her first day. She decides that'll suffice and inserts it into the email.

Georgina walks into the dorm and says something about a friend coming to visit next week. Blair is only half listening because it's finally late enough that she can go to sleep. So when she wakes up, she'll only be three hours away from finding out if Books wrote back.

* * *

Dan had completely forgotten he even wrote in the textbook. He didn't have alcohol to blame on that rash decision. Just impulse. So when he watches her read the words he has half a mind to snatch back the book and claim it was already there when he got it.

Like she'd believe that.

But then, she smiled and all his tension evaporated. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her writing back before class ended.

He opens the book to page eighty-four eagerly the first chance he gets. He doesn't even make it all the way to his dorm, instead he opens it right on the steps leading up to FREN 160.

Her reply pleases him, especially the way her handwriting spills out over the page in a vine-like pattern. Subconsciously, he always knew she'd be the sort of girl to write in cursive.

Dan spends a full forty-five minutes drafting replies during class. Ultimately, he decides on a shortened version of the actual story. She doesn't need to know about his complicated familial relationship with his stepmother.

_**Accidentally bought two - one online used and one in the bookstore new. Boring story. You can keep the formerly new one, now in Used - Fair condition.**_

_**PS What's your name?**_

Time seems to stand still until he sees her again on Friday. Luckily, this time she doesn't write back in the book. Instead she neatly tears a piece of paper out of her notebook and writes:

_**I think we should really stop defacing your textbook. I don't need to keep it: I've mostly been using it since it *was* in better condition than the only used one I could find online. Now to answer your question… Do you need to know my name? You haven't needed it so far. Besides you've probably already decided on what my name most likely is. Stick with that.**_

He shakes his head as he reads her words. Writing back:

_**I think your name is something regal like Elizabeth or Victoria. Or something literary like Anais.**_

At the last minute, he adds:

_**What do you think my name is then?**_

It's clear he's guessed wrong as he watches Blair read his reply.

_**No, all good guesses but wrong. **_**I think your name is something preppy like Parker. Or something more straightforward like Dylan. Oh! Or a name that you've hated forever but pretend to embrace like Randolph.**

A wash of goosebumps rise on Dan's skin as he reads over her guesses. She guessed his middle name, eerie. He can't decide whether or not to tell her that, so he sits on it for a while, tuning back into the lecture.

He leaves it long enough that she writes another note, eyes full of triumph as she passes it to him:

_**I guessed it, didn't I?**_

He writes back:

_**You sort-of did. I guess this is why we never talk. We don't need words.**_

Dan wishes he hadn't written that last part, it sounds like some romantic declaration. But these seats are too close for him to erase it without her knowing, she's certainly seen it already. So he leaves it be. She doesn't acknowledge the awkwardness, instead jumping to the point.

_**Explain. How did I "sort-of" guess it?**_

Letting out a breath, he finally tells her:

_**My middle name is Randolph. And I have always hated it, more than you could know. Now that you know at least one-third of my name, you owe me.**_

She writes back:

_**Cornelia.**_

_Cornelia _. The name bounces around his mind as he tries to decide if that's her first or middle name. He thinks it's the latter because it doesn't quite fit her the way he expected. It just sounds like one missing piece of the puzzle.

Scribbling at last, he passes it back:

_**Call it even then.**_

When class concludes, she hands the book back ignoring his offer from earlier. Then, he sees that on top of the book is the sheet of notebook paper with all their notes from today. At the bottom is a new one:

_**In case you need to leave me any more messages to read on Monday. Have a good weekend.**_

_**-B.**_

The initial is a surprise that gives him an irrational spark of hope.

For the rest of the day, he tries to guess what that B might stand for.

Beatrice, Bree, Briar, nothing he comes up with sounds quite right. So he starts trying out names paired with Cornelia, like trying to fit the puzzle pieces together.

It's not until ten at night that he realizes it's odd to even be so intensely deliberating it. She's certainly not losing sleep over the possibilities of his name. So it doesn't matter, it's irrelevant.

All he knows is this:

She's Headbands - the girl that sits next to him three days a week, wears a dizzying amount of hair accessories, and uses his book, and that's all he really needs to know.


	4. Dorm Life, Interrupted

**AN: Thank you to the amazing ASadAir for beta'ing this chapter! Hope you all are enjoying the story and the direction it's headed! Thank you for reading :)**

* * *

The Friday after the note exchange with "Books" Randolph Doe, they go to Cine 4 for a viewing of the latest arthouse drama that all the other media students are debating. Afterwards, Blair is bursting with thoughts, having kept a running list of discussion points in her head throughout the film. To her disappointment, it turns out that Nelly is the quiet contemplative type, so they are reduced to a companionable silence the whole drive home until Nelly starts spiraling about the assignment she's only three-quarters of the way through that's due on Tuesday.

Blair quickly loses interest and finds her mind wandering back to Intro to Film. Lately, it feels like she's been leaving her brain behind each time she leaves the class because her attention never quite departs that room. Every other weeknight, she replays her latest interaction with Books. Tonight, she has many to press rewind on.

She's still trying to decide whether giving Books her initial was a massive mistake or not. She's plagued by the idea that her name is still tinged with the desperation of a lonely fifteen-year old. Outsider-status is a hard thing to shake, she would know, she can't even rid her identity of it.

She pauses by the dorm, key in hand, when she hears a ripple of girlish laughter emanating from her dorm room.

Georgina is never home on a Friday night, which means she brought the party to their dorm. Already pricking with displeasure, Blair pushes open the door to see what sort of pandemonium she will discover.

Instead of finding dozens of sweaty frat guys and sorority girls with only half their clothing on, it's just Georgina and a blonde girl. The blonde is sitting on Blair's bed, long, tanned legs outstretched over the neatly made duvet. Georgina meanwhile is telling some raucous story until she notices Blair at the door.

"Oh," She doesn't bother to hide her disappointment. "Hi, Blair."

"Hi," Blair says skeptically, glancing at her hijacked bed. She waits for the blonde to introduce herself, something is familiar about her. Blair's eyes catch on the framed photo on the dresser and sees a different version of the same girl- still tanned, still smiling, but younger. She tries to think of her name.

Georgina finds it for her. "This is Serena. My best friend. We were just catching up so..."

She trails off and Blair is left standing at the entrance wondering if her roommate is kicking her out of her own dorm room. Georgina nor Serena make a move to make her feel welcome – Serena stays put on Blair's bed, texting, while Georgina just stares back expectantly.

"Right," Blair says at last, feeling resigned. "I have some studying to catch up on in the library. I just came by to grab a few books."

She retrieves a few texts, a notebook, and then turns to leave. Neither of them says anything- they just resume their giggling as soon as the door has shut.

* * *

**12th grade.**

**Albany, NY.**

_Blair slips out of her graduation cap and gown, draping it over her desk chair. "It's all finally over." _

"_Not yet," Nate says. "You still have your party downstairs waiting for you." _

_"I know," Blair sighs. "Why did my mother insist on throwing me the graduation party? I didn't even want one. Why would I want a whole night reflecting on the worst four years of my life?" _

_"Blair," Nate is placating. "Come on, it wasn't all bad." _

"_It wouldn't have been all bad if you were there." Blair admits, sinking onto the bed. "I wish you hadn't transferred out freshman year. It could have all been so different, Nate." _

_This is a thought Blair has had many times and voiced only a few. She and Nate had met in the sixth grade, both children of parents who should have had greater lives than the ones they ended up with. Her mother's poorly timed designer deal that fell through seemed milder than Nate's own family dramas. Nate's father, Howard, went to jail for fraud and embezzlement and was serving a five-year sentence._

_Nate's mother's side of the family had been long estranged from their daughter, after she married the shady Howard Archibald, but as soon as they heard their grandson was attending public high school they swooped in and had him transferred to the nearest private academy, effectively stranding Blair in that hell hole of a high school._

_"I know," He sits down beside her. "But you wouldn't have liked my school anyway. The uniforms were knee-length skirts for the girls with polo shirts. Polos, Blair, I know you wouldn't have fainted at the sight of your own reflection."_

_Smiling, Blair feels a ripple of pleasure at the clear sign that Nate knows her better than anyone. It's moments like these she wishes he could see it too – how well they fit together, how they belong together._

_"And what about Marcus?" Nate asks. "You had a good junior year when he was here."_

_"That's true." Blair agrees. She almost forgot about Marcus – the cute, British foreign exchange student she had dated for six months. Nate makes her forget him. Nate makes her forget everyone._

"_So you had two bad years there. Just two." Nate concludes. "And now, we are going to go celebrate the fact that you never have to see Juliet, Jessica, or Zoe again."_

_It's hard not to grin at that. Blair starts to stand but Nate pulls her back down. "Wait, one last thing to cheer you up. Let me go get my gift for you."_

_Blair watches him leave her bedroom and return a minute later with a neatly wrapped box. He hands it to her, smiling. Blair unwraps it trying not to rip the paper, her heart fluttering in her chest._

_Inside is a stuffed bulldog wearing a blue sweater with a giant Y on it – the Yale mascot. Blair smiles down at it before clutching it to her chest. "Thanks, Nate. I love it."_

_"Look at his collar," Nate instructs. _

_Blair does so and discovers two tickets slipped under the brown leather collar. Train tickets to New York City. "What's this?"_

_"I thought you and I could take the train down and spend the whole day in the city doing all the things we always wanted. We can go to one of the museums you like, then go to the park, maybe go to the top of the Empire State Building. It's your gift so you choose where and when."_

_Happy tears threaten to spill out of Blair's eyes as she throws her arms around him. "Thank you, this is the best gift." _

"_I'm glad you like it." Nate laughs. "I was worried you'd say a stuffed animal would be lame and a whole day with me would be lamer." _

"_I would never say that." Blair says into his ear. "You're my best friend."_

_She wants to say more but she doesn't. Instead she just wipes her eyes and sets the bulldog down on the bed. As they drift down the hall to the party, her head is filled with a dizzying daydream of her and Nate in New York City._

* * *

Dan wakes up to a text from Georgina on Saturday morning. He honestly forgot about her in his studious evasion. It's disappointing that she hasn't forgotten him too. That's what he had been hoping for, at least until she dropped out, which he figured would happen soon enough.

_Serena's here. Come to Vanderbilt at four. We'll be waiting. BTW I know you've been avoiding me. _

Perhaps this is the start of Georgina's deferral, Dan thinks after reading the text. Serena has swooped in undoubtedly with glamorous stories of her travels, Georgina will inevitably become jealous, and head straight to Admissions to defer for a year. Actually, thinking of it, he's sort of surprised Serena even figured out how to get here own her own. The only school she had been accepted to was Brown after a large donation was gifted by Lily – only for Serena to promptly announced she wouldn't be attending.

Lily had been irate, Rufus had been called in to persuade Serena, Dan too. Everyone tried and failed to get his stepsister to attend. Last he heard, she had been in Santorini with Carter Baizen. He's sure Lily loved the photos of them hitting the tabloids.

He wonders if he should tell his father and Lily that Serena is back on the East Coast. He supposes he'll see how today goes first – make sure she's not fit for another stint at the Ostroff Center. If she is, then he'll tell them. If she seems happy and harmless, he won't. It's a good plan.

Perhaps he'll help nudge Georgina away while he's at it. He really is sick of looking over his shoulder every time he crosses Old Campus for fear of running into her. Dan replies:

_I'll be there. Send me your room #. _

At three-fifty-five, Dan heads over to the Vanderbilt Hall. He had to cancel on plans with friends from his own residence hall for this but it'll be worth it, not to have to worry about what crazy antics Georgina is up to on campus and how they might affect him.

He walks slowly down the hallway- coming in from the west entrance, searching for the dorm number Georgina sent. As he rounds a corner, he thinks he hears Georgina's distinctive cackle. He needs a moment before entering; she's the sort of person you have to prepare for.

So he draws in a sharp breath, then another, and another.

* * *

Blair is coming back from another study session with Nelly at the library. She takes the east entrance, eager to get into the building and be reprieved of the gusty winds outside. As she paces down the hall, faint voices and laughter can be heard: the same sounds she heard last night before she was so unceremoniously kicked out of her own dorm room.

She groans, stalling before rounding the corner as she tries to think of how to proceed. She can't just let this Serena girl steal her bed and her room. This is college. She thinks back to the words she had written in the first page of her notebook on the train ride to campus.

You can't make people love you, but you can make them fear you.

Chin held high, she rounds the corner and stops in her tracks as she hears her name.

"Shouldn't Dan be here by now? At least _Blair _isn't here."

It's Georgina speaking and she makes Blair's name sound like something offensive.

"Oh I know, she totally is…." Georgina continues. "I mean really, a sushi party? Blair is _so _tragic. You met her, you should understand by now…. On scholarship too, if that doesn't say it all…. Those headbands… Total travesty… Right?"

Giggles, more giggles.

"Total gold digger, I swear. Why else would she keep that framed photo of him on her dresser? I Googled him… Old money… Dartmouth."

The words start to go fuzzy as she listens in abject horror.

"Blair is just so…"

She doesn't need to hear anymore. She blinks away the pain and heads straight for the nearest exit. Out of this building, out of this terrible revival of the same pain she endured for four years.

Through watery eyes, she marches down the hallway only pausing once she realizes there's something in her way. _Someone _in her way.

The worst someone she could think of to see at this moment. He's been there the whole time. Listening to the whole thing – Georgina's humiliating version of the Blair Waldorf Story.

And now, he's looking at her with pitying eyes like he suddenly sees her for who she is – not the girl he passes notes to in Intro to Film but instead, Blair, the poor girl who can't even afford to buy her own textbook.

And he... he's _Dan_. She finally knows his name now.

But Blair can't play anymore wordless games with him anymore. Not after that. She fixes her gaze on the bright red exit sign, letting the light drown out the sight of him. She brushes past him– pretending he was never there and that neither was she.

* * *

Dan stands there, frozen, as Headbands – _no_, Blair, rushes past him. B, Blair. Blair Cornelia. It slides into place, the right fit at least. Except, it was all at the wrong moment.

Jumping to action, Dan pushes open the ajar door startling both Georgina and Serena.

"Fuck, Georgina, do you always have to be such a bitch?" His tone is accusatory and bitter.

"Woah," Serena's eyes go wide. "Is it just me or is Dan kind of an asshole now, Georgie?"

"Yeah seriously," Georgina agrees, eyes spewing icy daggers at him. "What the fuck is up with you?"

"Your roommate, Blair, and I were just treated to your lovely dissemination of the destruction of her character." Dan says, glaring back at her. "Shut the door next time and try to be discreet."

"Oh," Georgina shrugs. "She heard that? Well, I sort of did her a favor, didn't I? She could use a little image check. I only spoke the truth."

"You're soulless." Dan says harshly before turning to Serena. "Does your mom know you're here? Or does she still think you're in Santorini?"

"Goody, it's my turn to be scolded by Dan." Serena remarks sarcastically. "What does it matter if she knows or not?"

"Because she has the Brown Admissions office calling her every month to see if you still plan to attend next semester. She needs to give them an answer." Dan shoves a hand through his hair, angrily. "Look, tell her or I will."

He pauses, trying to make his threat sink in. Then with finality, he says. "I'm leaving now."

Dan stomps out of the dorm room and heads the way he saw Blair go. He doesn't know where he'll find her, but he has to try.

* * *

Blair feels the sting of the harsh wind as she hurries across campus. She doesn't even know where she's going. If she had friends, proper friends not just a study buddy which is basically what Nelly is, she could hide out in their dorm room. But she doesn't even have that.

She remembers reading up on what life on campus would be like. Dozens of articles saying Yale's residential halls will make you feel at home, like you've instantly found a new family. She doesn't feel like that at all.

Glancing at her watch, she sees it's only a little after four. Even still, a train ride home would take at least five hours. It would be nine by the time she got home and then she'd have to explain to her mother why she's unexpectedly come home to visit.

Resigned to the fact that finding such solace is simply not possible, she heads to Sterling to seek solace in one of the sixteen floors of books. There has to be one aisle where she can sink down and lose herself in a daydream somewhere very far away from here.

From somewhere beyond, she thinks she hears her name being called. But she doesn't turn back, she just keeps on ahead chanting her mantra in her head.

_You can't make people love you, but you can make them fear you. _


	5. Poetry

**AN: So happy you all are liking this story so far, it makes me truly glad :) Thanks so much to ASadAir for sprinkling this chapter with the magic it needed! **

* * *

It's Monday and Blair honestly can't fathom sitting next to Dan and pretending he didn't watch her nearly breakdown in the hallway just two days ago. So she gets to class early enough that the back row will still be empty. But apparently not early enough.

Dan is sitting there in their spot, eyes trained on her. She flicks her gaze away and continues up the steps, not breaking her hard stare until she sinks down into a sit next to a pretty girl with the shiniest hair Blair has ever seen. She'd normally avoid someone so obviously better than her but she doesn't have much of a choice. This girl is her armory from the person who knows just how vulnerable she is.

A few other girls fill the row and soon enough, Blair feels safe again. Safe from those inquisitive eyes that told her they knew her.

"Hey," The girl next to her says as they wait for class to start. "I'm Raina."

Blair blinks momentarily, stunned at this friendly gesture. This is what she thought would happen all along at Yale, a simple introduction and then blossoming friendship. Why is it happening now that she's resolved to be feared, not loved?

"I'm Blair," She says tentatively.

"This is Epperly," Raina points to the blonde next to her who waves at Blair.

"Nice to meet you both." Blair replies politely, flipping open to a blank page of her notebook. She's relieved the professor begins his lecture a moment later, saving her from more conversation which she feels incapable of at the moment.

After the lecture has concluded, Raina starts talking to her again. "So can I ask? Why'd you sit back here with us instead of with your boyfriend?"

"What?" Blair feels her cheeks heat and instinctively looks down to where Dan is putting away his books - both copies, she notes, and prays he couldn't hear Raina's question. "Him? He's not my boyfriend. He's not even my friend."

She gives an awkward laugh.

"Oh," Raina arches an eyebrow, interested. "We just assumed, since you two always sit next to each other and pass notes. The lectures get boring and we're always looking for entertainment." Raina adds at Blair's confused expression.

"We don't pass notes." Blair is mortified. This sounds so high school. She glances down to where Dan had been packing up his belongings and sees he's already descending the stairs. She ignores the glance he gives her before he exits the class.

"Are you sure about that?" Epperly asks, catching the look Dan just shot her. "Did you guys get into a fight or something? He kept looking back at you during class."

Blair pushes her hair behind her ears, feeling naked without her headband. She follows the girls down the steps. "Something like that." She says vaguely. "I hope you didn't mind that I took your row today."

"No," Raina says quickly. "We were relieved actually. This total creep kept sitting there and if he asked for Epperly's number one more time I probably would have punched him. So I guess you kind of saved me from an assault charge."

They make it out of the classroom and Blair catches Dan waiting for her out of the corner of her eye. She doesn't look at him and just follows the girls, unsure of where they are headed but certain she can't stop.

Who knows what Dan wants to say to her. He'll probably tell her she needs to start bringing her own book because he can't be seen with such a social pariah.

"Hey," Raina says suddenly. "What are you doing tonight?"

Blair is pulled from her worst imaginations. She wants to say - it's a Monday, probably studying and going to bed early, but that would be tragic. "I don't know."

"Come to our dorm! Honestly, you and that guy - the one you're avoiding, are kind of like an enigma to us. We need to hear the full story. Then, we were going to watch Amelie on the communal TV with a few of the other girls."

It's like it's all suddenly happening, everything Blair dreamed of. All the minutiae of the quintessential college experience, within her reach. But thanks to Georgina's little spiel on Saturday, Blair is in disbelief and a part of her wonders if this is all an elaborate hoax to embarrass the lowly scholarship student.

She tries to put her anxieties aside as she nods. "Sure. What building are you guys in?"

"We're in Durfee. C22." Epperly says, "Come at seven."

"Okay," Blair smiles. "I'm heading to Latin now but I'll see you both tonight."

Suddenly, quite impossibly, Blair has two new friends. Forget the fact that she may have just lost one, it's still a huge step toward the collegiate life she always wanted.

* * *

As Dan watches Blair walk away, flanked by two statuesque freshman girls, he realizes he was idiotic for even waiting around for her. What was he even going to say to her?

_I'm sorry my stepsister's best friend is such a bitch. _

_Why didn't you sit next to me? _

_Class sucked without you._

They were all pathetic and quite possibly, tragic - as Georgina would say. He and Blair didn't even know each other's names up until this weekend. Even then, that was an accident. They had only surmised them rather than willingly given them to each other.

At least, he assumed Blair knew his name by now. Maybe not, though.

Either way, clearly whatever peculiar, tentative friendship they had formed had now concluded.

He really shouldn't care. Yet, a fog of disquiet follows him all day. He finally recognizes what it is once he's back in the quiet of his dorm room.

It's that same recognition he felt the first time he looked into her eyes.

He had been her, once upon a time. That first day at St. Judes, Chuck Bass informing everyone that Dan Humphrey didn't belong. That he was actually just some kid from Brooklyn that would never be one of them because Lily wasn't his actual mother. She was just the link binding him to the Upper East Side. Without the van der Woodsens, "he'd be nothing." Or at least, that's what Chuck had said.

Unaware of what her financial situation was really like, or where she was even from, all Dan knows is this:

Blair is an outsider, just like he had once been.

The plain truth of it was written in those doe-like eyes. When he looked at her, that day in the hallway outside her dorm, she had looked so impossibly sad. Seeing that expression had elicited a pain in his own chest.

That's why he had gone off the rails and yelled at not only Georgina but Serena too. He didn't even know if she was still on campus or if she had jetted off to get another passport stamp. Truthfully, he couldn't care. All he cared about was making Blair feel like she belonged.

* * *

Blair still feels wary of this supposed girls night at Raina and Epperly's dorm. It feels too good to be true. If she had followed her mantra, she would have told them a movie night and gossiping about boys sounded pathetic. But that would have been a lie.

So she shows up a few minutes after seven, trying not to look overeager. Raina opens the door in yoga clothes with a wide smile. "You came!"

Her happiness seems genuine so Blair lets herself be pulled in and introduced to their other two roommates - Fran and Rebecca. While Rebecca is perky with a blunt cut lob, Fran is diminutive and has a curtain of dark hair. Her skin is practically translucent, Blair notes, as she settles into one of the couches.

"So," Epperly says to Blair. "Tell us all about what is up with you and the hot hipster in Intro to Film."

"Hot?" Blair echoes, incredulously. "I wouldn't say he's hot."

"Oh come on," Raina chimes in. "He is and you know it."

Blair ignores their comments on Dan's appearance and tells them all about their odd book-sharing arrangement. She even includes the part about Saturday because she realizes it's pretty crucial to her decision to sit with them, rather than him, today.

They all look at her with sympathetic eyes when she summarizes Georgina's bitchy rant about her. Fran pipes up, "You should put in for a transfer."

Rebecca nods enthusiastically. "I think a girl in the next dorm over just dropped out. You can probably have her bed! I'll talk to Forest, she was her roommate."

"Thanks," Blair says weakly. "So as you can all see, Dan and I really aren't friends. And certainly, most definitely, not boyfriend and girlfriend." She emphasizes a little too much. "Besides, honestly, I've I've done the whole best-friend-maybe-more slash will-we-or-won't-we-thing. I am not interested in a reprisal of it or in Dan, for that matter."

"Totally get that." Rebecca says. "My ex and I were friends first and we sort of are friends again except for the fact that we can't even have a normal conversation without it turning into some fight about something that happened when we were dating."

Raina is chewing decisively on her lips, as though weighing something. "Then, why not still sit next to him? Not that we don't love having you in our row." She quickly adds. "But it just seems needlessly cruel to shun him because he knows your bitchy roommate. I think it's sort of sweet how he always lent his extra book to you. I would call it the perfect meet-cute, but I know you 'aren't interested in him'."

Blair prickles slightly at the air quotes and tries to consider what Raina said. "It's like… He's seen me at my worst. I can't just sit next to him now and carry on like he didn't witness my complete degradation by my roommate."

"I do see what Raina's saying though." Epperly nods thoughtfully. "Blair, think about it. You've already learned how shitty people can be thanks to Georgina. So if you find a good one, like Dan, do you really want to let him go because of an embarrassing moment? And speaking of that, don't let Georgina belittle you. You need to tell her to fuck off. Put back up the Cary Grant photo – which by the way, if you can make me a copy that would be great, and next time Serena is on your bed shove her off. She's not even a student here."

All the girls bob their heads in accordance and Blair has no choice but to agree with Epperly. "Fine, but this means you're going to be stuck next to the creep on Wednesday's class."

"It'll be worth it." Epperly says with a smile. "Now, let's go watch the movie."

* * *

A miracle occurs on Wednesday. Blair is sitting in their pair of seats when Dan gets to class. Her shiny brown hair looks bare without it's headband but still, it's her. Leather bound notebook and all. When he slides past her to take his seat beside her, she doesn't bristle or even shift away. She just remains situated.

Dan hands her the book - he had brought it with the intention of delivering it to her in the back row and writing a note on the same sheet of paper from last Friday. It's also the one he had hung onto and read whenever he was bored the past few days. On it he writes:

_**Blair Cornelia _?**_

She takes the paper from him with slight hesitation and he wonders if he's misstepped. Maybe they are supposed to communicate in the spoken word now like normal students.

Her lips curl the slightest bit as she fills in the blank.

Blair Cornelia Waldorf.

_**Dan Randolph _?**_

A bubble of relief fills him as he writes back:

_**Daniel Randolph Humphrey**_

She snickers the slightest bit and he shoots her a, _really_ look.

_**Sorry.**_

He shakes his head.

_**I know, it's not a very good name. **_

Her reply is an unconvincing attempt at reassurance:

_**It is. It's fine.**_

_**Waldorf is a good name. **_

_**Thanks, it's my donor dad's last name. My mom thought it sounded more dignified than her own. **_

_**Donor dad? **_

_**My mom conceived me using a fertility clinic. Harold Waldorf was the donor. **_

Dan thinks about this and then scribbles down a question:

_**Have you seen photos of him? **_

_**I've met him. We talk pretty frequently. He's sort of my dad, but not really. Just in all the good ways. **_

_**Tell me something about you. All I know about you is that you have questionable taste in friends (i.e. Georgina Sparks) and that you apparently over quantify the number of books you need for you classes. **_

This summary of him makes him happy. He tries to think of what to tell her about himself while trying not to seem surprised at her mention of Georgina. He wasn't sure if they were supposed to pretend _the incident _hadn't happened.

Deciding on telling her something that will make her see that they're more alike than she realizes, he writes:

_**I was born in Brooklyn to Rufus Humphrey, former frontman of Lincoln Hawk- a one-hit wonder band of the 90s. He married my stepmom, Lily van der Woodsen, when I was five and we had to move to the Upper East Side where I was forced to befriend a whole onslaught of terrible characters including Georgina Sparks just to survive. I hadn't made one friend I actually liked until I met you. **_

He glances at Blair as she reads the short story of his life to see if perhaps the last line is too much. But she seems pleased and writes back:

_**Hence, me calling your choice in friends questionable but not terrible. You did befriend me after all.**_

_**We should talk, one of these days. Like really talk. I'm starting to think perhaps you are mute? If so, I can swap my French class for ASL. (Totally serious.)**_

_**Of course you take French. Prerequisite for being an Upper East Sider.**_

Dan notes that she dodged his suggestion that they have an actual conversation and tries not to take it personally.

_**Exactly. What language do you take?**_

_**Latin.**_

_**Interesting choice….**_

_**It's underrated. Plus, it's the root of all words. I think it's more useful than you might realize.**_

_**Well, maybe one of these days you'll say something to me in Latin and I'll respond in French and neither of us will have any idea of what the other has said. **_

_**Sounds about right. **_

She seems pensive for a moment before taking the paper back from him and adding:

_**I think there's something poetic about it.**_

_**About what?**_

_**This. The notes. The not-speaking. Don't you?**_

She's looking at him now with hopeful eyes so he nods.

_**That's true. But poems always end too soon. **_

Blair underlines that as soon as he passes it to her. Dan watches as she writes something underneath it and then passes it back.

_**See? Poetic.**_

After he reads it, he sees her pull out the older sheet of notes, the very first. She circles something then passes it back. He discovers that she circled his words:

_**We don't need words.**_

Something about this makes his chest tighten. He hides it with a conciliatory reply:

_**Fine, I concede. **_

Blair smiles a triumphant grin and Dan watches as she finally tunes into the lecture. Except it ends a few minutes later and both of them are left without a clue as to what Professor Donovan went over today.

Dan can't quite find it in him to even mind it.

* * *

"Somebody is strangely very smiley today." Raina notes as she catches up to Blair after class. "I'm going to have to refer you to mother's surgeon to get those laugh lines filled."

Epperly pipes up, "You are starring in a romantic comedy, Blair, and you don't even know it."

"No," Raina says with a shake of her head. "She's obviously starring in a silent film. She's Greta Garbo and he's Rudolph Valentino."

"I think I'll do my Senior Project on a retelling of your meet-cute. I'll probably win at the film festival." Epperly blithely announces.

"Um," Raina sounds irritated. "It was my idea. If anyone is making that movie, it's going to be me."

Blair cuts in at last. "No one is going to be making any movies. At least, not about me nor Dan. There's nothing romantic about us."

"Sure," Epperly drawls. "There's nothing romantic about you two spending ninety minutes with stupid grins on your faces as you write love letters back and forth."

"Not love letters," Blair says through her teeth then waves them off. "You guys are making me late to Latin."

"Amor vincit omnia!" Epperly announces that _love conquers all_ way too loudly. Blair is suddenly quite thankful Dan always heads the opposite way after class. And that he doesn't know Latin.

"Supprime tuum stultiloquium!" Blair calls back teasingly, hoping that will shut Epperly up.

But if she had been honest with them, she would have had to admit it did feel a bit cinematic. As someone who had always dreamed of bigger things for herself, she couldn't help but feel that things might finally be falling into place.


	6. Breaking Social Rules

**AN: So sorry for the delay, I thought I posted Chapter 6 a week or two ago! Here it is at last! Thank you to ASadAir who is the best beta/editor! **

* * *

Thanks to a few lessons in assertion from Raina and Epperly, Blair marches into her dorm on Thursday afternoon on a mission. Just as she predicted, Serena is lounging on Blair's bed scrolling through her phone and listening to music. Of course, it's some dreadful autotuned "artist" Blair refuses to learn the name of.

Drawing in a deep breath, Blair squares her shoulders. "Serena."

Blue eyes blink at her in surprise as though Blair is the one invading her space. "Oh. Hey."

"Listen," Blair hovers over Serena in what she hopes is an intimidating stance. "If you plan on sticking around, I suggest you visit Admissions. You'll need to see about finding a permanent housing solution because you can't sleep here anymore. If I find you on my bed again, I'll call the RA or will drag you out of here myself. This is my dorm room. You're welcome to stop by and visit Georgina when she's here and it's not some ungodly hour but stick to her side of the room. Now, up up!"

She drags Serena up by her golden, lithe arm. Her dumbstruck face suggests no one has ever kicked her out of anywhere before. Well, Blair thinks, there's a first time for everything.

"I'll tell Georgina you stopped by!" Blair leads Serena out of the dorm and locks the door behind her.

Smoothing out her wrinkled duvet, she feels a self-satisfied smile cross her face. She texts Raina and Epperly in the group chain they have going:

_Mission accomplished. We're celebrating tonight._

Her friends reply with a flurry of emojis- a fist pump, confetti, champagne, and a million other little icons that represent Blair's mood. Next, she texts Nelly eager not to morph into Juliet and be the queen of exclusion:

_Raina and Epperly are having a few of us over to their dorm tonight. Come by?_

Nelly texts back in an instant with a response in the affirmative and Blair is glad she thought to invite her. She had been feeling a little guilty saving all her fun times for Raina and the girls, setting aside Nelly just for study sessions.

Blair honestly couldn't have ever imagined herself being the type of girl to go to a party on a Thursday night but it turns out, even an Ivy Leaguer can let loose. She throws on the latest of her mother's designs- a flirty dress in a dusty rose color that makes her skin look more luminous than it actually is. Normally, she would have put heels on with it and maybe a gold leafed headband but Raina has been trying to engrain "less is more" in Blair's brain. So instead, she simply slips a bangle on her wrist and wears her nicest pair of flat sandals.

Arriving to her friends' dorm, she finds it's hardly set-up for a get-together with "just a few friends." There's a Costco-sized pack of SOLO cups set out along with a table for beer pong. Blair didn't even know parties were allowed in the dorms, at least none ever happened in her dorm. But then again, she wouldn't know, never having been invited.

"B!" Raina surveys her. "See! Beautiful! You don't need headbands to sparkle. E, come look at how cute Blair looks."

Blair lets them praise her and even says yes to the shot of horribly cheap vodka they have on-hand, only because they are toasting to eternal friendship. She's glad she does it because sober-Blair would start questioning her presence at this sort of shindig on a school night and would start to think up excuses to leave, especially as the room fills quickly with at least thirty other students and still no Nelly Yuki in sight.

She can just picture Nelly walking up, getting one tiny glimpse into the raucous dorm, and then running in the opposite direction with one hand poised on her horn-rimmed glasses so they didn't fly off in her hurry.

"Okay another shot," Epperly proffers more vodka. "We need to drink to you!"

The other girls are with her – Raina, Fran, and Forest, all beaming huge grins and holding up their own shots. Blair's already fuzzy but she feels no choice but to say yes to her new, picturesque friends. Maybe her life is a movie, she thinks as she raises the shot.

"To you!" They all shout. "To the incredible, amazing Blair!"

Blair would blush but she's pretty sure the stuffy room has already caused her cheeks to permanently fill with color. So instead, she lets the cool alcohol burn her mouth out as she finishes the shot.

"Blair," She hears her name again and turns, expecting to see... Well, she's not quite sure who she expects to see but certainly not Dan.

He belongs in Intro to Film and Journalism, not in her friends' overcrowded dorm room. In all her imagination of what it might be like when they finally held a real, intimate conversation, she never pictured it in such a disorderly environment. She feels far too dazed for this but she meets his eye as he approaches the high top table they're all gathered around.

"Hi." She says a little uncertainty, distracted by Raina and Epperly's eager, surreptitiously exchanged glances behind Dan. They keep nudging one another like they're watching something epic unfold.

Of course. They probably invited him.

Blair would certainly be glaring at them right now and rescinding her promise of eternal friendship if not for Dan being directly in her line of sight.

She asks, "What are you doing here?" as if she doesn't already know.

"I know Fran, she's in my Literature to Film class." Dan answers, making Blair wonder if this was Fran's doing, not Epperly's. But one look at them over his shoulder confirms it was definitely that duo. She rues the day she told them all about her and Dan.

Blair nods.

"I'm breaking our rule, aren't I?" Dan asks. "When I saw you, a minute ago, I actually checked my pockets for a sheet of paper I could pass you. I found one but I didn't have a pen. So communicating the old-fashioned way seemed de rigueur."

"You do realize I am well-versed in the art of conversation and don't require pen and paper to conduct a discussion, don't you?" Blair asks sardonically.

"I mean, I had to assume." Dan replies. "You don't exactly seem friendless."

His comment is sarcastic but it makes her realize he doesn't know the half of it. He continues on though. "So what's the occasion? Your friends seem to be celebrating you."

"Oh," Blair feels a bit sheepish. She can't remember if he said he was close to his stepsister or not. "Honestly, I kicked your stepsister out of my dorm. Sorry."

Dan doesn't look the slightest bit disappointed and instead blanches slightly. "Serena has been here, all this time?"

"Yes." Blair replies, wishing she had a drink to busy herself with. She glances down at one of the empty SOLO cups before continuing. "She sort of hijacked my bed there for a while."

"I'm glad you ousted her then." He shakes his head. "Do you happen to know where she went? I should track her down. If she's spending all her time at a college it should really be her own."

Blair can't help her reply. "Serena got in somewhere?"

"Brown." Dan hesitates. "Her mother contributed to the construction of a new music hall. Although, I'm sure it was unrelated."

Smiling at his dry tone, Blair asks, "I am going to get a drink. Something to wash away that shitty vodka shot you saw me doing. This way?"

After she plucks two fresh cups from the table, he follows her into the communal kitchenette where she knows the girls stash their better liquor and all the non-alcoholic beverages.

"You barely poured anything in there." Dan notes as she puts double the amount of vodka in his cup.

Blair nods. "I've already had two shots and am seizing the opportunity to sober up. We have class tomorrow, remember? I need to keep my wordbank sharp so I can properly communicate to you in our customary fashion. Any more than this and I might be too hungover to quip."

"Ah," Dan's tone turns sage.

Blair tops off their cups with an organic lemonade she finds in the fridge that undoubtedly belongs to Fran, whose Lilliputian frame runs on pesticide-free substances. Blair idly wonders if the lack of pesticides is what makes her skin so translucent; maybe it's everyone else that has the problem and not Fran.

Blair takes a sip and blinks in surprise as Nelly Yuki walks into the empty kitchenette. Her eyes are huge, magnified by her glasses, and she's wearing a cardigan as per usual.

"Nelly Yuki!" The alcohol makes Blair deaf to the loudness of her own voice. "You made it!"

"I thought maybe you sent me the wrong dorm number." Nelly glances back down the hall toward the party, face filled with terror and consternation.

Blair hears Dan laugh slightly from beside her and remembers her manners. "Dan this is Nelly Yuki, Nelly Yuki, this is Dan."

As she offers to make a skeptical Nelly a drink, Dan whispers to her, "Does she only go by Nelly Yuki or may I just call her Nelly?"

Blair thinks about this. "I think her full name is more apt. Don't you? It's a catchy name. Nelly Yuki." She says it again, for fun.

Dan shakes his head and stills Blair's hand on the vodka bottle. The contact freeze frames the moment, Blair registering the first time they've ever made proper contact. It's a silly thing to note, Blair realizes, dismissing the tingles his skin on hers sends up her arm and down her spine. "She looks like a lightweight. Go easy on her."

"Right," Blair pulls back the bottle, surveys the cup which is now two-parts vodka and one-part air and dumps a little of the excess liquor into Dan's.

Dan frowns down at his cup. "I didn't say to pour the extra into mine. I won't even make it to class at this rate. This was already half vodka when you first poured it."

"You will." Blair says confidently, adding lemonade to Nelly's cup. Meanwhile, Nelly is standing at the threshold of the party and the kitchen, glancing back and forth nervously as though perhaps she's stumbled into a nightmare. "Your wit will just be compromised but that's okay. I like to be the cleverer one."

"So I've noticed," Dan says with a flicker of amusement.

"Here you are," Blair passes Nelly her drink. "Your first college party."

"Possibly my last." Nelly says despondently as they walk back into the packed dorm room.

It's been two hours and while the room has stopped swaying quite so much for Blair, Nelly now seems to be the unsteady one. Blair surveys her with a grimace. "I really shouldn't have put so much vodka in her drink."

She's surrounded by her friends and Dan who doesn't seem to know anyone else at this party and thus has stuck by her side. They all nod, especially Dan. "I warned you."

"I think I'm going to walk her back to her dorm." Raina and Epperly both make pouty faces but know better than to protest at this point. Blair has stuck it out longer than she normally would have on a weeknight.

"I'll head out too." Dan says, throwing his cup in the trash. While he's not looking, her friends shoot her suggestive glances which she carefully ignores.

"Come on, Nelly," Blair links her arm through Nelly's, but not before she's swapped numbers with some guy wearing a pair of Beats headphones around his neck. "It's time for you to go home."

When they're outside in the cold, a now-sober Blair has to cautiously guide a very off-balance Nelly down the steps.

"Do you know which dorm she's in?" Dan asks, a look of concern on his face.

"I do," Blair says and points toward the right. "We're both that way, you?"

"Durfee," He replies, frowning a little. "I can go with you guys, though, to make sure you get there safely."

Blair shakes her head. "We'll be fine. Nelly Yuki is a very cooperative drunk."

Nelly nods to this emphatically. "Nelly Yuki is very, very cooperative. I could probably retake my- my S… SAT's right now and still get a 2360." She stumbles over the words.

"I'm sure you could." Blair agrees. To Dan she says, "See? She can still remember her SAT score. We're fine. Besides, you'll know we didn't make it if I don't show up tomorrow in class."

"That's not very reassuring." He says.

"Really, Dan. I went to public school in what was perhaps one of the seedier Upstate neighborhoods. You on the other hand," She glances meaningfully at his expertly tailored clothing. "I don't think your private school good manners will prove necessary to us. Thank you, though."

She gives him her most bolstering smile as he reluctantly agrees and says goodnight.

The whole way back to Nelly's dorm her friend raves about some guy named Todd Jansen. By the time they've made it to Nelly's room, Blair feels like she could probably write a biography on the guy.

"Thanksss," The 's' is elongated in Nelly's slurring, the sibilance strong. "Blair, for inviting me."

"Sure, anytime." Blair takes Nelly's phone and switches it off for her, so she can't get any drunken ideas about texting Todd. "I'll see you tomorrow at lunchtime for our study session. You might want to pop an aspirin or two in the morning though."

Nelly nods dutifully and then sinks back into her bed, peacefully asleep before Blair has even closed the dorm door on her.

As she walks back to her own dorm room, she imagines what this walk would have been like with the company of Dan. She forgets the thought just in time to turn the lock in the key.

* * *

**TBC...**

**Chapter 7 is edited and ready for posting this weekend! Thanks for reading!**


	7. Noted

**AN: I am so thankful for you all continuing to read! And to the amazing ASadAir for keeping up the great beta work :) **

* * *

"You survived," Dan says as he slides into his usual seat beside Blair the next morning in class. There's not a trace of last night's festivities on her face, her skin aglow and eyes bright with amusement. As he assesses her, something flickers in him that he might dare call attraction, if he were bolder.

"Of course I did." She replies in a self-assured tone as he pulls out his books and a pen. "Did you take Adderall to counteract the hangover or something?"

"No, why?" He catches the scrutinizing expression on her face.

She glances down at where his hand spins the pen between his fingertips. "You're fidgeting. Again."

"Oh. I guess I'm just glad it's Friday." He says, even though it's not true. He's been feeling this strange melancholy on Fridays. He's certain it has nothing to do with never seeing her on weekends; positive, in fact.

"Weekend plans or something?" Blair asks, clearly intrigued by his strange expression.

Dan shakes his head. "Research mostly, for the journalism project. You?"

"Same." Blair sighs. "I'm behind thanks to rebelling against my strict schedule in favor of chaperoning Nelly Yuki last night."

"You mean corrupting Nelly Yuki?"

"Same thing." Blair smiles, mischievously. "Should we join forces and tackle the research together this weekend?"

"Isn't Nelly your study buddy?"

"She's on the next train home for the weekend to cleanse the sins." Blair says as though it's obvious.

"Then, sure." Dan feels his fidgety hand still, quieted now by this new prospect of weekend plans with Blair. He had never thought to ask her to study together.

The professor steps up to the podium and he hears Blair tear out a new sheet of notebook paper. Their conversation seamlessly transitions into written form and the lecture is barely heard.

* * *

As the first test of the fall semester begins, Blair idly wonders if maybe she should have been paying more attention to the lectures in Intro to Film rather than her seatmate. She frowns down at the paper and taps her pencil against it.

Glancing over at Dan, she sees he's struggling just as much as he is. The past few weeks have been spent taking the wrong kind of notes and now it seems they will both pay for it.

If she were audacious and less ethical, she would pass him a note asking him the answer to the first test question but she decides to make her best-educated guess instead of cheating. She never thought Intro to Film would be a class she'd have to study for. This was supposed to come naturally to her. Clearly, that will have to change before midterms.

Turning in her test with a sigh, Blair heads out of class wordlessly an hour later, accompanied by an equally dejected Dan. Epperly skips over to them with a smile just outside of class, Raina following behind her. "Easiest test ever, right?"

Blair stares at her, trying to discern whether she is kidding. "No. Who knows the average length of a film scene in the 1960s?"

"Seriously? Professor Donavan spent two classes lecturing on the chronology of scene lengths shortening." Raina chimes in. "I told you, you should pay more attention in class."

"I think I did alright," Dan says. "And that question was easy."

Blair huffs in annoyance. "Well, if I fail and don't pass this class at the end of the semester, I'm blaming you for always distracting me."

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Raina and Epperly exchange a look and she pretends to ignore it. "I should go, you guys are making me late for Latin, a class I would actually like to pass."

"Bonam fortunam!" Epperly calls a little too cheerily after her.

The whole way to Latin, Blair walks in a hurricane of stress. Her scholarship depends on her getting good grades. So far, she's managed a 3.9 GPA, but she's been desperate to bump it up to a 4.0 before the end of the semester. If she can achieve that, she'll secure funding for the next year as well as be closer to graduating with honors.

With a sigh of resignation, she realizes she and Dan may need to trade their predilection for note-passing for actual note-taking. Her brain reminds her that they are friends now and that she doesn't need class to be able to talk to him. She can ask him to go to the cafeteria with her, or the coffee shop down the street, or even to the movies. This idea that she must maximize all the minutes she shares with him during Intro to Film is ridiculous.

Yet, something holds her back and keeps her hesitant, as though she fears she's at risk of showing her cards.

Maybe it's the burn of past fizzled out friendships or the sting of abandonment that still plagues her whenever she thinks of all the times Juliet and the girls made plans without her and their casual dismissal of it afterward – it was as if Blair were silly to even think she might be invited.

But with Dan, she must admit it's different. Sometimes it feels as though the whole auditorium is empty save for the two of them when they are in the middle of a rapid-fire note exchange. Afterward, her hand cramps but as she twists and stretches her wrist to ease the ache, simply the memory of their exchanges prompts her to smile and forget about the discomfort.

And on paper, she can take chances. She likes Blair Waldorf on paper a lot better than the real-life version of herself. On paper, she can be the girl she always wanted to be.

The girl that she wants Dan Humphrey to see.

* * *

While the social notes begin to dwindle in favor of proper note-taking, Dan and Blair's friendship seamlessly cements as the fall semester blurs by.

Suddenly Dan no longer just thinking of her as that girl he sits next to in film class, he's thinking of her as Blair, the friend he relies on most throughout his collegiate life. She's the first person he asks to proofread his essays or to accompany him to an on-campus screening and the person he doesn't want to miss seeing over the break.

The attraction he possibly felt for her initially gets buried in the easy solidification of their friendship. So by November, he forgets it's all about the obvious crush he has on her and lets it feel like some normal extension of their friendship.

Watching her now, as her neat handwriting scrawls across the notebook pages, he thinks yet again about how it'll be weird not seeing her for a whole week starting tomorrow.

She's in the middle of responding to his question of when she plans on leaving for Thanksgiving. It is their last class together before the recess begins and this prospect of separation has strangely been occupying his mind.

_**I'll probably take the train up on Saturday. You? **_

Dan frowns at her reply.

_**The train? Won't that take over 5 hours?**_

_**Yes, thanks for the reminder. **_

Her sarcasm oozes off the page.

_**You can carpool up with me. I leave Saturday too. For Hudson. I'm spending it with my mom this year.**_

_**You realize Albany is north of Hudson? It'll be at least 45 minutes out of the way. I don't mind the train. I have an essay I can write. **_

_**I don't mind. I hear Albany is nice this time of year. I can check out the foliage. **_

He watches Blair stifles a laugh.

_**You sound 80. **_

_**Maybe I'm just an old soul.**_

She shakes her head. He writes another note to her, snatching the paper away.

_**Be ready by noon. I have an excellent road trip playlist ready to go. **_

Blair audibly groans.

_**Oh god, of course, you failed to mention that right away. I'll be sure to pack earplugs. **_

Dan gives her a sideways look before glancing toward the front of the lecture hall in concentration. Offering to drive her up to Albany was a spur of the moment decision, admittedly, but now, he's looking forward to it. The idea of a full three hours without having to use scraps of notebook paper to communicate sound almost exhilarating.

So he smiles to himself and starts mentally planning the playlist that will certainly spark a three-hour-long stream of banter.

* * *

**TBC...**

**We will pick-up with a road trip! Thanks for reading! PS Hoping to post the new chapter in December, thank you all for being so patient with my lagging updates!**


	8. Road Trips & Mix Tapes

**Happy New Year! I hope you enjoy this new chapter, beta'd by the amazing ASadAir :) **

* * *

A weary huff escapes Blair as the car treks along the empty road so slowly that she's convinced she could get to Albany faster by foot.

"When you called yourself an old soul, did you mean it in the literal sense? Because all the local retirees keep passing you on the highway and I'm thinking your soul might be even older than theirs. " Blair finally asks as they cross the state line into Massachusetts. She had mapped the journey last night and it should have only taken an hour, tops.

Dan glowers at her. "I find it interesting how skilled you are at backseat driving when you've never even driven before."

"I've driven before." Blair counters, a little defensively. "I had my learner's permit."

"But not your driver's license?" Dan asks pointedly.

"I forgot to take the test." Her shrug suggests indifference. "I was busy with scholarship applications. Something you wouldn't know about."

The long car ride might be making her a bit feisty, she'll admit. Their friendly banter has slowly been escalating into hostile bickering. Blair reaches into the glove box, desperate for a reprieve from the oldies Dan insists on playing. She can't listen to another minute of Neil Diamond; she'll jump out of the car if she has to.

"'Dan's Sweet Beats'," Blair instantly breaks into laughter. "What is this?"

Dan snatches the homemade CD away from her. "Stop ransacking my vehicle."

Blair easily grabs the CD back from Dan, who is too focused on the road to possibly successfully fight her. "I didn't even know cars still had CD players." She says as she ejects the current CD and pops in much more intriguing "Sweet Beats".

She practically jitters with anticipation as the first notes of a song begin… She quickly realizes it's Spice Up Your Life. "The Spice Girls?"

Dan quickly hits skip on the stereo and an even more incriminating song comes on. As Long As You Love Me by the Backstreet Boys belts out and Blair is now practically doubled over in the passenger seat with laughter. "I can't decide whether the title of this mix is the most humiliating part or the songs on it. What, did you think calling it 'Sweet Beats' would be a less embarrassing cover up for what's actually on this CD?"

"Jenny must have burned another CD on it." Dan replies defensively, cheeks a vibrant shade of red. At her incredulous look, he says. "I'm serious. She loved boy bands. That was like her generation."

"Her generation?" Blair frowns at him. "Aren't you and Jenny only two years apart?"

"You know what I mean." Dan replies sharply.

Blair listens to the chorus and surmises, "I must say this is far preferable to Sweet Caroline. Honestly, I was starting to think you were trying to seduce me with that succession of If You Leave Me Now and Let's Stay Together."

"Of course not." Dan's unexpectedly sharp response makes Blair turn to look at him. He stares intensely at the road and then suddenly busies himself with adjusting the odometer.

"I was kidding." She adds, out of necessity. The last thing she wants to do is make things weird between the two of them before they're even halfway through the drive yet. She changes the subject. "So what's Thanksgiving like at your mother's house?"

"Much better than with my dad. Lily's idea of Thanksgiving dinner is a catered five-course feast served by butlers in vests."

"Sounds horrible," Blair replies sardonically. "Poor you."

He glances at her. "I'm not like her, you know? I am grateful for all she's done to help pay for my education but I don't live as frivolously as the van der Woodsen's."

"Sorry," Blair says automatically, feeling like she's unnerved him. "I didn't mean to imply that you're spoiled."

It's then that she notices she's soured the easy energy between them with all her criticism and snide remarks. But she can't tell why she's being like this. She wants to be nice to him but as soon as she speaks, something sharp comes out instead.

Maybe it's just a by-product of too much conversation. She knew they passed notes for a reason.

Trying to set things back to the way they are supposed to be, Blair asks, "Does your mom cook or does Alexander?" She knows Dan can be prickly about his mother's boyfriend so she hopes this is a safe question.

"Both of them cook. My mom makes the sides while Alexander makes the turkey. There was talk of doing a turkey-free Thanksgiving but Jenny threatened not to come so that got shut down rather quickly." Dan shakes his head. "As if she will actually eat the turkey let alone the mashed potatoes."

Blair remembers her own adolescent eating habits – the pumpkin pie was always her weakness. It's now that she realizes she hasn't even thought about deliberately throwing up in three months. Glancing down at her sweater and skirt, she sees that they fit her properly, not loosely like they used to. Dan starts talking again before she can fret over this fact, which is a good thing because she knows how easy it is to fall back to her old ways over the holidays.

"But the point is, Jenny will be there, which is good. Normally I have to personally chauffeur her from Manhattan to Hudson in order to get her to see our mother. I'm calling this progress." Dan nods to himself.

"Instead, you got stuck chauffeuring me." Blair quips. "I won't ask who's the worst passenger, I think I already know."

Dan softens, hazarding a glance her way as traffic slows. "I'm glad you're here. I would be bored out of my mind right now. I would take your music complaints over an empty passenger seat without a second thought."

"You're a good liar." Blair says with a smile, sinking back into the cushioned leather seat. Her tone turns serious as she says, "But, me too. It's nice talking to you –really talking to you, as you once put it."

Their eyes meet over the center console and Blair notes the rays of sunshine pouring through the windshield as a sudden warmth spreads through her chest.

Blair slides out of the car as Dan unloads her bags out of the trunk. The bags are surprisingly light, he thought for sure she'd have a tendency to overpack just like Jenny, whose bags always cost extra at the airport baggage check.

"Thanks," Blair says, taking the bags. "Come on,"

Dan looks at her quizzically and she continues on. "Aren't you going to come inside and meet my mother? She's still half-convinced that you only drove me here as a ruse to kidnap me."

"Why would she think that?" Dan asks, taken aback.

Blair laughs, shaking her head. "She finds it inconceivable that a 'wealthy boy' like you would be nice just for the sake of being nice." She shrugs. "The usual middle-class skepticism of the upper-class and all that."

Dan stays firmly put by the trunk and Blair sighs. He feels her hand wrapped around his arm, as she gives him a firm tug.

"Smile, at the very least. She'll like you, remember? You told me all mothers love you." Blair doesn't knock, she just opens the door and drops her bag in the hallway. "Mom?"

Dan hears the sound of footsteps and then sees a slightly older version of the woman in the framed photograph on Blair's desk back at school, rounding the corner. "Blair, honey."

She comes over and hugs her daughter, embracing her tightly. Then, she looks at Dan and smooths her hair before extending a hand. "I'm Eleanor."

"Dan," Dan shakes her hand firmly. "It's a privilege to meet you."

He wants to say more, like how lovely her home is, having the cozy feel that Lily's Upper East Side sprawling penthouse could never obtain, or like how she raised the most impressive girl he had ever met. But he's suddenly nervous and his mouth feels sort of dry so he just sticks his hands and his pockets and looks at Blair.

Blair rolls her eyes at him for some unknown reason and then his phone begins to ring. He glances at the screen, frowning down at the time as Jenny's photo appears on screen. He declines the call.

Blair apologizes for him. "Dan's supposed to be in Hudson by now, I've made him late."

Eleanor smiles, "It's quite alright. Thank you for driving Blair all the way here, Dan. That was very sweet of you. Maybe next time you're upstate we can plan on you staying for dinner?"

"Definitely." Dan says, nodding. "I would like that."

"Great," Eleanor smiles brightly and puts a hand on his shoulder as he heads for the door. "Thank you again, Dan. I'm relieved you got my daughter here safely."

Over her shoulder, Blair mouths, 'told you', as though to reiterate the fact that her mother was quite wary of them. She gives him a small wave and Dan wonders if her mother wasn't between them if they would hug right now. Instead, they are left with this strange goodbye that shouldn't feel monumental at all since it's only for seven days but somehow, it does.

"Have a nice Thanksgiving," Dan says, stepping onto the porch.

"You too," Eleanor says.

"See you, Dan." Blair gives him a small wave and then turns around, just as he watches a mysteriously melancholy expression spreads across her face.

It's what he thinks about the whole drive to Hudson. It's the first time he lets himself wonder seriously if there might be something more.

* * *

_**9th grade.**_

_**Albany, NY.**_

_This is going to be the best Thanksgiving ever, Blair is certain of it. Nate and his mother, Anne, are spending it at their house. On top of that, Harold, Blair's donor dad, is coming with his partner, Roman, who Blair has Skyped with and finds quite charming. Her mother is apparently having a date over – a lawyer type named Jack, but Blair doesn't even mind._

_"Pumpkin pie." Blair says firmly, eyes unblinking._

_"No," Nate says, his mouth upturned in a way that suggests he knows he will get his way. "Apple."_

_"Pumpkin."_

_"Apple."_

_They continue on like this for ten minutes, just debating pie varieties, until they're interrupted by a ringing doorbell._

_"Your dad!" Nate says excitedly._

_"Harold," Blair corrects. She's always careful to make sure not to call him 'Dad.' That would be more than Harold bargained for._

_She goes to the door and lets him in, he hugs her as warmly as a real father might. Roman does the same and she suddenly feels like the pair of them makes up for the loss of an actual dad._

_"Blair bear," Harold doesn't shy away from using Blair's nickname he coined. It always makes her feel fuzzy inside. "Introduce me to this Nate of yours."_

_Blair feels embarrassed for a moment that he called him 'her Nate' but looking at Nate trailing in from the kitchen, she sees her friend doesn't seem to mind one bit. "Nice to meet you, sir."_

_"You too." Harold beams. "It's great to see you outside of that screen." He references their Skype sessions which Nate is frequently present for._

_"Where's that busy mother of yours?" Harold asks, glancing around._

_Eleanor bustles in from the kitchen where she was basting the turkey and takes over as hostess. The night flies from there, easily the best holiday Blair has ever had. She eats more than she thinks she's eaten the entire year too, a full serving plus dessert._

_Not once does she think of ridding her body of the calories. She won't think of that until next year – when Nate's gone, Harold and Roman are back in France, and she's being iced out by her so-called friends. There would be no one around to make her feel beautiful, no lonely sorrows to remind her that she'll never be enough._

_But for this one deliriously happy Thanksgiving, everything is perfect. Magical, even._

* * *

It's a Friday morning and Dan should be sitting next to Blair in Intro to Film studies but instead, he's watching his mom and sister fight about Black Friday sales. Right, two more days to go until he trades familial drama for collegiate routine. Momentarily, he thinks of texting Blair but they texted almost all day yesterday so he decides not to.

Through their rampant exchange of messaging, he learned it had just been Blair, her mom, their neighbor Dorota and her family yesterday. So all in all, her Thanksgiving hadn't been very eventful. Dan's too had been lowkey with Jenny too busy scoping out the next day's sales on her phone and his mom and Alexander taking PDA to new, uncomfortable heights. His dad and Lily had FaceTimed them briefly but other than that, he had plenty of time to text with Blair all about how campus, classes, and quizzes were preferable to this overload of family time.

It's so strange, he still thinks, how just one year ago he had tried to stretch out each St. Judes' holiday break as much as possible. But now, he finds himself counting down the hours until break is over. Blair, too, said she's in a rush to get back to campus, citing fear Georgina will have burned down their dorm with her tendency to leave the flat iron switched on before jetting off to the Maldives for vacation.

Staring at the clock, he mentally calculates the hours until he's driving them back to Yale.

When the clock finally strikes nine the following morning, he's already at the station. Blair insisted on taking the train down to Hudson to save him the extra trip upstate. He waits patiently by the tracks, watching the Amtrak's tarnished train cars whirl by.

At last, the Maple Leaf pulls up and Dan feels a rush of anticipation as it screeches to a halt. One by one passengers deboard, most of them clad in touristy shirts bearing wine-themed slogans like "Rose All Day" or "You Had Me At Merlot." He winces at the thought of Blair being sandwiched between one of these winos in a coach-class seat. He smiles with relief when he sees her finally crossing the platform toward him.

"Chardon-hey," Dan says wryly, in greeting. He flicks his gaze toward a bleached blonde middle-aged woman who not only has on a pun-laden tee but also a tote bag with yet another cringe-y wine-quip.

Blair heaves a groan, visibly shaking off her disdain. "Sorry to disappoint but I didn't stop by the vineyards to pick you up one of those monstrosities."

Dan takes the leather weekender bag off her shoulder. "I'm devastated."

Blair lets out a breathy laugh as they walk up the steps and into the daylight. "You saved me. I was going stir-crazy. My mother kept making me be her fit model and I swear I've had acupuncture sessions with far less needle pricking."

He lifts the hatchback of his Volkswagen Golf and sets Blair's bag beside his. Once he's inside the car, he sees Blair procure a few CDs from her bags. He looks at her quizzically.

"You didn't really think I was going to listen to more Neil Diamond, did you? Or more of 'Dan's Sweet Beats'?" Blair asks as she pops one of the discs in.

"We'll start with Vivaldi – it stimulates the mind."

Dan tries not to show his dismay at having to listen to classical for the next three hours. But then he remembers that he's headed back to the place where he belongs and the symphony of violins accompanying the drive suddenly feels right.

Within an hour, they are back to bantering and acting like they are five seconds away from a physical fight. And all the while, the words 'I missed you' echo in his mind.

When they cross the state line Blair sinks back into her chair and looks over at him. He could almost swear her expression says what he doesn't find the courage to say.

* * *

**TBC...**


	9. Departures & Reunions

**AN: Thank you so much to my amazing beta, ASadAir, who always makes time for editing this fic. It means so much! Also, thank you all for continuing to read these Dair fics :)**

* * *

By November, the trees stood lonely and bare. The last remnants of fall have been cleared from the sidewalks of New Haven, now covered in ice rather than foliage. After Thanksgiving break, the weeks between the holidays seemed to melt into one.

Blair can barely believe that the first semester of college is ending in just one week. Finals have completely overtaken her life and she can't even remember the last time she slept in her own bed rather than on the cold, hard surface of the library desk.

She thinks that one day, she'll miss these sleepless nights. But for now, she loathes the tired appearance they give her face and the deprivation of her wit as she passes notes back and forth with Dan.

_Ready for Monday's final?_

_No. Yes. Maybe. You?_

Dan writes back:

_Sort-of. But let's study together tonight?_

She nods in reply, her hand too tired to write out a reply.

Dan passes another note.

_Your dorm or mine?_

_Mine. Georgina will be out._

Dan quirks a brow.

_Guessing she's working her magic on some poor sap who's smart enough to pass her classes on her behalf._

_Yep. Some pledge in Sig Nu is making her flashcards and cheat sheets._

_Figures. You know she paid someone five grand to take her SATs in high school?_

_Not surprised. I once saw her on a casting site looking through actresses that looked eerily similar to her. Fairly certain she's going to hire a double to finish out the year for her._

_Think she'll last that long?_

_I hope not. You know her better than me, being her BFF and all._

Blair watches as Dan shakes his head and crumples the note. She never tires of teasing him for his sort-of friendship with the abominable Georgina. He claims it was a "necessary friendship" to survive high school but one he still can't seem to shake. Blair thinks he may be getting closer to what he wants though given that Georgina finds it repulsive that Dan is willingly hanging out with Blair.

"Dan, please tell me you are here to see me and not Blair, as she just suggested." Georgina had icily demanded the first time he stopped by their shared dorm room to grab Blair for a study session.

"Georgina," Dan had said, visibly flummoxed. "I didn't realize you would be here."

"Oh Dan Humphrey," Georgina shook her head, regretfully. "How hard I've tried to save you from your poor social decisions…"

Blair had watched the whole thing prickling with discomfort, but that was weeks ago now and she had pretty much shaken off the feeling of shame.

_Mostly._

Every now and then, Georgina's very presence re-stirred old feelings of being an outcast. But then, she'll get to Intro to Film and see Dan smiling at her followed by her girlfriends waving from the back row and she'll suddenly feel that sense of belonging again. The one that confirmed Yale was her destiny after all.

So maybe she didn't have an overflowing social calendar but she had Dan, Nelly, and Raina's circle of friends which were quickly becoming her circle of friends. It was enough to make her feel like things were only going to keep getting better.

With only one last final to go each, a sample 5,000 word article they've both completed for journalism, Dan and Blair sit in Sterling on Thursday night. They're proofreading each other's papers, or at least Blair still is, as Dan scans through the spring schedule she made. She's still assaulting his article with her ball-point red pen. Her paper on the other hand only has a few extra commas slashed out.

"Do we have to take Classical Hollywood Narrative in the spring semester? It seems like it could wait until sophomore year." Dan asks, thinking of snatching his article back. "Are you almost done with that, by the way? I don't have time for a total rewrite."

They'll have all the same courses save for their respective foreign languages and also a fashion course Blair was taking as an elective.

"Dan," Blair pleads with him. "It's been my number one class since we got here, I didn't get in for fall so this is our chance. And no, I'm not suggesting a total rewrite of your article. Just some… reworking."

"But what if just one of us gets in?" Dan puts his hand on hers to still her slashing hand. He stealthily takes his paperback and watches as she finally sets down the pen.

"Then you're on your own in Postmodern Italian." She shrugs apologetically.

"Fine," Dan relents. "But this means you're taking Introductory Film Writing and Directing with me."

"Deal." Blair sticks her hand out across the library table. "We can be partners on all the projects. I'll direct, you'll write. And film."

"So I'll do all the grunt work?" Dan asks wryly. "Then, once I turn in my half you'll go all combative on my work again with your 'corrections.'"

"Exactly. You're catching on to how this works." Blair gives him a smile that softens him inside.

"What are you going to do over winter break? With no one to harass." Dan sticks his article into his messenger bag.

"Hm," Blair sets her elbow on the table and brings a finger to her chin. "I'll probably have to ask Georgina for that casting site she uses. I'll find a Dan Humphrey look-a-like to berate."

"Sounds about right." Dan chuckles.

"What about you?"

"I was thinking of spending the last few weeks in Hudson actually. I have to go to Manhattan for Christmas but maybe I'll head up for the New Year." Dan says as the idea comes to him. Maybe he can even see what she's doing for New Year's Eve.

"No," Blair shakes her head. "You should stay until the first. Raina invited me to spend New Year's Eve at the Thorpes' annual NYE party. You could come, I think it's in Midtown."

"How are you getting there?"

"I'll take the train into the city." Blair says as though it's obvious. "Hey, if you're in Hudson for end of the break do you think we can ride back to school together?"

"Sure," Dan says. "I'll spend all my sparse days of winter break putting together a playlist we can agree upon."

"I don't trust your taste." Blair stands. "I'll bring back-up."

"Just no Vivaldi okay?"

"No promises," Blair rolls her eyes at him. Then, she taps his article which now resembles a crime scene. "Come on, you have a final draft to write and we have plenty of time between now and then to find a musician we both like."

* * *

The lonely train ride up to Albany makes Blair miss Dan and his penchant for bad music. At least she sprang for business class this time. That money was supposed to be used for a new tote bag to carry her bags in next semester but her current tattered tote with its frayed handles would have to hold on until May.

The only thing keeping her from getting off at the next stop and turning right back around toward New Haven is the promise of New Year's Eve. The last time she was in the city was that day with Nate; it used to be a memory that she thought would be preserved in a vault in her mind until she was one-hundred years old. Yet, thinking of it now, she feels the edges of the memory have gone fuzzy and it feels too far away to grasp. As though her mind is trying to release it to make room for preserving more important moments yet-to-come.

What she can remember, was his lips on hers as ducks swam by in the pond at Central Park. _"Why? Why now?" She had asked as soon as he pulled away, while her heart hammered to the beat of the drums beating somewhere nearby._

_"I thought we shouldn't go off to college without knowing." Nate shrugged, implying inconsequentiality. In that moment, she thought of telling him but then he had thrown an arm around her in a platonic fashion. "You're my best friend, Blair. You always will be."_

_And that was that. Chapter closed._

She always thought he should have done that at prom if he was really so curious what kissing her would be like. But then maybe that moment wouldn't have been as magical. Prom confetti and dimmed gym lighting could never rival the soft-focus sunlight that streamed through the clouds that day and reflected off the snow.

Admittedly, university had made Nate recede, if only a tiny bit, deeper into the crevices of her mind. It was hard to wonder what he was up to when she had new bright and shiny friends occupying her thoughts. And harder yet to wonder about Nate when she had Dan and his irritating way of hijacking her weekdays.

But the past did keep creeping into her mind the further the train stretched into northern territory. Like that unread email from Marcus that she had spotted in her inbox the morning of her last final. She couldn't quite understand why she waiting to read it – fear, trepidation, apathy? Even now, older and wiser she couldn't quite decide what Marcus had been to her – first love, _no_, a distraction – yes that was most likely. But still, he was still _Lord _Marcus Beaton. She'd be an idiot not to reply to whatever he was asking her.

Figuring there was no time like the present, Blair pulls up her email on her phone already regretting the data overcharge she's likely working towards just by reading this email.

_Dear Blair, _( as she begins to read, the voice in her head turns British and lordly)

_I hope this email finds you well. I must start by saying it is too often I think of you when I think of the US. You'll always be the most treasured memory from my brief, yet impactful, time in your states._

_I am writing to inform you that I will be in New York City on January 3rd to meet with the UN for business. It would be remiss of me not to ask you if I could see you. At rare opportunities when my mind is free, it seems to wander toward you. It would be a true pleasure to see you again and hear what you have been doing since I last saw you. I imagine you are at Yale, just like you always wished and I truly hope that dream came true for you._

_My number is below if you would like to text or call me to arrange a meeting. If you are busy or on holiday, I will miss seeing you but completely understand. Please do also give my regards to Nathaniel, I trust you two are still in touch._

_Yours,_

_Lord Marcus Beaton_

Blair rereads the email finding herself puzzling over it. Marcus, Lord Marcus, thought of her often? _Why?_ She wondered. There had to be a Duchess out there he's betrothed to and occupying his mind rather than just some common American girl he dated for five minutes in high school.

Suddenly, she wishes she and Raina had spent less time gossiping about boys on campus and more time reminiscing on boys of the past so she could ask her opinion. But Raina, nor Epperley or any of the other girls, even knew that Blair had dated British royalty in high school.

Blair drafts and re-drafts so many replies that she doesn't even realize that they've arrived in Albany until she hears the final call for the stop. She stands, retrieving her bag, and tucks her phone back into her purse.

She spots Nate instantly waiting just outside the station and suddenly, Albany feels like home again.

"What are you doing here?" She asks once the surprise has worn off and they've exchanged hellos.

"Your mom told me what train you were on so I thought I'd save her the trip and pick you up." There's that grin again, the one she almost forgot about. She blinks, taking in the overwhelming glimmer of him. She's thrilled to see him yet she registers a flicker of something being off. A missing piece.

They head toward his car, a sleek BMW given to him as a graduation gift by Grandfather Vanderbilt. Nate deposits her bag in the trunk while she settles into the passenger seat.

"So, this," Blair gestures to the interior. "Somehow survived college? I pray I'm not sitting in the same spot where your last date vomited the morning-after."

"I'm like a walking cure for hangovers, they don't exist when I'm around." Nate says in a way that comes off as charming rather than cocky.

"Sure, Nate." Blair remarks sarcastically. "So do you want to hear about my nightmare roommate first or my glamorous circle of friends?"

"The latter," Nate wrinkles his forehead. "Or former? I still confuse those… And I've heard too many snippets of this Gloriana to not hear the full story yet-"

"Georgina," Blair corrects. "Though it does please me to hear you screw up her name. Promise you'll call her that if you ever meet her, which I hope you don't. But really, she called me Claire for a solid month so it would be the perfect payback."

"I think I can agree to that." Nate nods, eyes fixed on the road. "But only once I've heard how awful she is."

"Done." Blair smiles and begins at the beginning.

"She's truly a terror." Nate surmises. By the time Blair has finished telling all her Georgina-centric tales, they've arrived at her house.

"I almost forgot to tell you," Blair remembers as they're walking up to the porch. "Marcus asked me to give you his regards." Blair adopts a British accent.

"Lord Marcus?"

"The one and only." Blair says, watching Nate's reaction carefully.

"I didn't know you even still talked to him." Nate follows her into the house and sets her bags on the stairs. "Isn't he busy? Being a Lord or whatever?"

"Yes," Blair grins, winningly. "But apparently not too busy to see me when he's in town in three weeks. I'm meeting him at The Russian Tea Room."

"Darling," Eleanor bursts through the hallway, a pin cushion in hand. "I thought that was you."

"Hi Mom, I missed you."

"And I, you." Eleanor turns to Nate. "Thank you, Nate. That was so sweet of you to pick her up."

"Anytime." Nate gives a good-natured shrug and then looks toward the door. "I should let you two catch up and you probably want to unpack, Blair. I'll see you tomorrow, though? Drinks at 518?"

518 was their favorite bar, a speakeasy-style that made Blair feel like she was Louise Brooks and Nate her very own John Barrymore. "Sounds perfect. Thanks again, Natie."

As Blair watches Nate walk away it finally hits her – what was missing earlier when she first saw him, the off vibe. The feeling she felt when she saw him, the dynamic between them was finally how it should be between two best friends. No pang in her chest, no lurch in her stomach. Just a general sense of happiness at Nate's company.

The realization makes her realize something else. Something about her friendship with Dan that she's not quite ready to face yet.

* * *

When Dan had arrived back in Manhattan after three long months in the sleepy town of New Haven, he had felt certain the city would be alive with energy. But instead, the past two weeks have meandered slower than imaginable. Not even Jenny's melodramatic tantrums have served to entertain him – and that includes the latest meltdown in which she was restricted from seeing her boyfriend Damien and promptly threw all her nicest dresses in the dumpster down the alley and lit it on fire. What was most troubling to Dan was that Jenny had so casually unsheathed a lighter from her pocket.

The only thing keeping Dan from hopping in his car and heading to Hudson was the promise of a New Year's Eve with familiar company. Not only would he be seeing Blair again but also her friends who were beginning to feel like his friends too. He liked the way that Raina didn't flash her wealthy upbringing like his crowd did, namely Serena. And Blair, well, Blair made him feel like the person he was always meant to be.

Missing her certainly must come from the lack of intelligent company that's been plaguing him. He never knew it but his brain had come to rely on their daily word combat. Without their jousts and jests of verbs, his writing had become lackluster.

The novel he had been working since before break has seen so little action, he feels positive his laptop will soon take the liberty of destroying the lifeless file. Searching for some form of inspiration in the meantime has also proved fruitless. Even coffee with Vanessa, an awkward half-hour of her spilling about her new director boyfriend, was uninspiring. Before, just ten minutes with Vanessa used to ignite enough of a spark to write a few pages.

The only thing the tense reunion had sparked within him was the knowledge that Vanessa was right to call off their relationship when she had. So he had wished her goodbye with the knowledge that even their friendship would likely soon fade into the past.

"Dan!" Dan's introspection is interrupted by Serena's singsongy voice. "Stop brooding, we're going out."

Dan spins around in his desk chair to see Serena accompanied by a glaring Georgina, still bitter of his avoidance of her on campus. "Where?"

Normally, he'd decline the invite without even asking what it was for but with New Year's still forty-eight hours away his boredom was unbearable.

"Nowhere your New Haven charity case could get into." Georgina says as she leans against the doorframe.

Serena glances at Georgina, seemingly considering, before brushing aside the comment and looking back at Dan. "Bemelmans. So you won't get carded. I still think you should get a fake, by the way."

"I know a guy," Georgina offers. "If you let me hook you up, then we could go out when we're back in New Haven."

Dan stands, ignoring the offers of fake IDs and New Haven outings with Georgina Sparks. "I can come for one drink. Then I need to get back to writing."

Serena cheers while Georgina merely raises her eyebrows in surprise and says, "One drink always leads to two."

Of course, they failed to mention that the crowd they were meeting at the bar included Chuck Bass, Dan's dearest frenemy. He still could picture in vivid detail the bruise that had bloomed below his eyebrow after Chuck punched him in ninth grade. Still worth it, in Dan's opinion, that sleaze had tried to lure his sixth-grade fresh-faced sister into his bedroom.

Rain Hoffstetter sits next to Dan and laments the lack of a Greek life on campus at Harvard while he pretends to listen. He's regretting agreeing to even the one drink all before Georgina has sidled up next to him.

"So I'm sure Claire has been busy over break." She leans across the bar, a devious smile. "I bet her and Nate have had a lot of lost time to make up for, if you know what I mean."

"We always know what you mean," says Rain with a roll of her eyes.

"Blair," Dan enunciates. "Doesn't have a boyfriend," After realizing that makes him sound like he's taken a vested interest in her love life so he tacks on, "That I know of."

"How have you not noticed her Nate-shrine on her side of our dorm?" Georgina laughs sharply. "You're priceless, Dan. I swear."

"You mean her best friend from high school?" Dan responds. "She has two photos of him up, I'd hardly call that a shrine. And if we're judging the photos up in that room I think a good start would be with the photos of yourself all over your side. I'm pretty sure plastering one's wall with photos of oneself is the definition of vanity."

"Ouch," Georgina mocks indignation. "Here I thought we were friends. Guess you've chosen a side. Well, enjoy being her little temporary distraction until Golden Boy breaks her heart. Then again, you always did love a good philanthropic cause. Speaking of which, S, are you going to the Designer Dresses for the Lesses Gala with me?"

Dan guffaws, "Wouldn't your time be more useful actually spent volunteering rather than drinking expensive cocktails and writing checks that mostly benefit the CEOs of these so-called 'non-profits'?"

"Here we go again," Georgina downs her drink. "I just- I can't with you sometimes, Dan. I really _really _can't."

"I think that's my cue then," Dan stands and throws cash on the bar for his share of the bar tab. "See you at home, Serena."

"See you, Dan!" Serena responds brightly, willfully ignoring the tension between her stepbrother and best friend.

When he gets home, he texts Blair immediately:

_You'll be relieved to know your roommate is still bestowing the East Coast with her generosity, even while on break. Her latest cause? Outfitting the "lesses" (aka anyone who doesn't have a trust fund) in her latest designer castoffs._

It's a while before Blair responds, at least two hours, and he can't help but wonder if she is with Nate. He instantly feels a grudge building toward Georgina for her ability to get in his head.

_Lucky them. I'm sure the Peregrine Falcon Foundation misses her donations. Devout attention to that very cause is what got her into Yale._

Dan laughs, remembering all too well the extravagant galas Georgina and Serena hosted on behalf of the bird foundation. He always thought they chose it because it sounded exotic and not too gritty for delicate debutantes. That was an unspoken rule of UES charitability.

As he waits for Blair's next reply, he turns on his laptop. A single glance at his keyboard and he suddenly realizes he has the inspiration to write again.

It seems like all he needed to lift the haze of writer's block was a single dose of Blair.

* * *

**TBC...**


	10. Worlds Colliding

**AN: I hope you all are safe and well wherever you are :) Thank you to the amazing ASadAir who continues to edit and improve this story, I am so grateful! **

* * *

The one thing that makes Blair grateful for the Vanderbilts, who swooped into Nate's life that fateful Freshman Year, is the luxury of heated leather seats and a premium sound system. It makes her forget about the chilly interior of the train and the monotonous elevator soundtrack that will never merit a place on any of her playlists. Though she does think to herself, it's not as cozy as Dan's car – not that she'd ever admit that to Dan.

She convinced Nate into coming to Raina's New Year's Eve party just by showing him a photo of her obnoxiously beautiful friend. A year ago, she would have felt jealous at his lingering stare but now, the envy doesn't stir. Instead, she just feels happy she will be getting into the city sooner than she would have on the next Manhattan-bound Amtrak.

As she and Nate head further south, in a companionable silence, she stares out the window watching the highway blur past.

"So Raina is single, right?" Nate asks, again. She's getting a bit exhausted by this line of questioning.

"Yes," Blair shakes her head. "I already told you that, remember? When I showed you her photo?"

"Good." Nate winks at her. "I need someone to kiss at midnight."

"Ew," Blair wrinkles her nose. "Spare me the details in the morning, okay?"

"What about you?" Nate asks, glancing over at her as they speed along the traffic-less highway in the early morning light. "Who's this Dan guy you keep talking about? I'm wondering if I should find out what his intentions are."

Nate's big brother act is not new to Blair, he pulled the same thing with Marcus way back in high school. But now, instead of irritating her, it endears her. "You definitely don't need to worry. We're just friends."

Nate seems to accept this, nodding and refocusing his attention on the road. Blair types a quick text to Raina with their ETA, also letting her know that Nate is excited to meet her.

She responds with a screenshot of Nate's Instagram feed which she must have been cyberstalking and says:

_How have you hidden him this long?_

Blair didn't tell Raina that Nate was the "will they or won't they" who led her to banish any thoughts of pursuing relationships with any future male best friends. Like Dan Humphrey. It was irrelevant now, she thought so at least. Nate hadn't even managed to elicit a single heart palpitation which was all the confirmation Blair needed that she was finally over him.

So he was Raina's now, for all Blair cared. At best, for one night. She wasn't even too concerned that her friend was more excited to see Nate than her because at least she knew Dan would be relieved to see her again. Dan had told her that he "weirdly missed" seeing her every day, as though it was an unfathomable concept.

She didn't tell him that she missed him too. When she tried, she couldn't physically type out the words with her clammy hands and was relieved he couldn't see her face over text.

The idea of Nate and Dan meeting was strange to her, as though her two worlds were colliding.

And for some reason, she wasn't quite ready.

* * *

Dan had planned to pick Blair up from the station on the day of New Year's Eve. But instead, he had awoken to a text from her saying that she caught a ride with Nate and she would just see him at the party.

Disappointment clouds his morning as he eats a piece of burnt toast and lukewarm coffee. He had been excited to pick her up and have the whole day together in the city. They could have gone to the best bagel spot he knew of and maybe even hopped on a subway bound for Brooklyn so he could show her where he was from.

There was even a playlist – one she maybe would have approved of. _Okay, probably not,_ he thinks to himself, _but still._

As he halts this train of thought, he decides he can at least be happy for her that she is getting more time with her best friend. Or maybe more-than-a-friend. Either way, it was fine. If Nate and Blair had begun dating over the break, he and Blair would still be friends and everything would be the same.

Because his feelings were strictly platonic and not of the romantic nature. He bites into his toast and feels satisfied by this thought as it crunches beneath his teeth.

A tiny ray of pain seems to shoot out of his chest just then, as though his heart was trying to disagree with his head.

Writing has always been the best distraction from his emotions so he sets aside his sad breakfast and opens up his laptop. Immediately he begins typing, desperate to lose himself in the words that will make him forget the wave of confusing feelings rushing through him this morning. At first, it's just gibberish, but by noon it begins to morph into something that with a few revisions, could be his greatest work yet.

"Hey Dan," Serena glides into the kitchen. "What time is your friend getting in?"

Serena has taken to humanizing Blair, it seems, by calling her his friend rather than by his name. It is more favorable than 'charity case' as Georgina insists on referring to her as so he doesn't correct her. "She's meeting me at the party."

"I'm kind of bummed you're missing Chuck's annual NYE rager." Serena sits on a barstool across from him and gives him a devious look. "What if I subdue Georgina with a special concoction? Then would you and your friends come?"

Dan shakes his head. "No, although, maybe you can do me that favor when I'm back at school. She's been unbearable lately."

"I know." Serena huffs. "I'm sort of dodging her today. Sometimes she's a little much even for me."

Dan looks up from his keyboard curiously. "Really? This is interesting. Why the change?"

As fast as the annoyance was on Serena's face, it disappears. "Who knows," She shrugs. "Anyway, I should go start getting ready for tonight. If you change your mind tonight, you know where to find us."

"See you, Serena." He says as she walks away. He shuts his laptop and decides to go back to his room where he left his phone, maybe Blair has texted him by now.

There's a message on his screen:

_Nate and I just got into the city! See you at Raina's tonight, 7 PM? :) _

Dan types back:

_Sure, see you then_

He glances at the clock, seeing he still has six hours to kill before tonight. Making a grudging retreat back to his laptop, he decides there's no excuse to not keep writing.

* * *

The elevator ascends to Raina's penthouse and within a few floors, Dan can feel the pulsing of the music. Blair had told him that it wouldn't actually start till nine but clearly she was off.

He finds Georgina getting in his head just as the doors open and a shadow of envy hangs over him as he crosses the threshold. But then, Blair is crossing the tiled floors beaming at him. A gimlet hangs loosely between her fingers and if he weren't so relieved to see her, he'd be concerned it may clatter to the ground.

"I thought it might be you," She steps toward him and there's an awkward moment where they just stand there somewhere between hugging and waving. Until, Blair's arms come around him tentatively and she says, "I'm glad you're here."

He lets out a breath, his arms dropping away from her as she steps back. "Me too."

She sways just a little bit. If it weren't for the drink, he wonders, would she still have hugged him? Deciding it doesn't matter, he lets her lead him to the kitchen where Raina is mixing drinks for everyone. "Dan! Let's get you a drink!"

The co-ed group surrounding Raina only contains one familiar face, Epperley, and she raises her glass to him.

"How was the drive down with Nate?" Dan asks after he takes a whiskey sour from Raina and thanks her. "I take it he has better taste in music with a far superior sound system than my humble vehicle." He tries to not let the Georgina-induced jealousy seep into his tone.

Blair takes a sip of her weaning drink and looks at him earnestly. "It turns out your car has unsuspectingly charmed me into the comfort of its worn seats and tinny audio so I suppose you might say, it paled in comparison. Or maybe it was the company."

Before he has a chance to respond, she tugs him out of the kitchen. "Speaking of, there's Nate…" She points to a preppy-looking guy by the fireplace. "Come meet him."

"Okay…" Dan follows, feeling peculiar at finally meeting Nate the Great.

"Nathaniel, I would like to introduce you to Dan Humphrey." Blair mock formally indicates Dan.

"Hey man," Nate offers his hand. "It's great to meet you. Blair hasn't stopped talking about you since Yale. I've gotten the feeling she would have dropped out if it weren't for you."

Dan glances at Blair who pushes a lock of hair behind her hair. Suddenly, composed, "Only because of Georgina."

"Right…" Nate laughs.

"Well, I must say the same for you. Blair speaks very highly of you." Dan says, watching as Nate nods emphatically and throws an arm around Blair's shoulder.

He notes the gesture seems more brotherly than romantic and he finds he feels a bit reassured.

"As she should." Nate turns to Blair. "Oh, my drink is empty, think Raina will make me another?"

"I'm sure she will," She shoves him toward the kitchen, "But you're a big boy, you go ask her."

Blair turns to Dan, "He's been like an obsessive puppy. Come on, let's see the Thorpes' insane library."

Dan follows Blair, watching the tiny, onyx crystals of her black dress shimmer in the dimly-lit hallways. "How was your break?"

"Oh you know," She shrugs. "As dull as I described via text. I did have something sort of interesting happen on the train ride up though." She says tentatively as they round a corner.

"Yeah?"

"This way." She opens a set of double doors before continuing. "I got an email, more like a letter, from an ex-boyfriend- if you can call him that, from high school. He is sort of a British lord." She pulls a book with an uncracked spine from one of the shelves spanning the expansive room.

Dan is glad for the distraction of the library as he processes this and how it makes him feel. "Did it say anything interesting?"

"He's in town, some consulate meeting, I think I might meet up with him tomorrow." Blair sits down in an armchair, setting her empty glass on a coaster on the side table.

Dan takes this in, noting the countless shelves of pristine and untouched books. "Is this one of those libraries that's more about the idea of having a library rather than actually wanting a place to house all your beloved books?"

"You would know better than I would," Blair remarks. "But probably."

"So is it a good thing or a bad thing?" Dan asks, jumping back to the topic of Marcus.

"A bad thing, obviously." Dan feels a sigh of relief ebb out of him. "I mean, I thought Raina's family was humbler, being self-made at all, but clearly they have some of the same facets of the status-obsessed old money blue bloods they mingle with."

"I meant Marcus." Dan says, smiling slightly. "But I agree about the books. I mean, who's actually even read Ulysses?"

"Certainly not Russell Thorpe." Blair gets up from the chair. "I guess I'll find out tomorrow. I figured it couldn't hurt but to be honest, I hadn't really thought about him in a long time. So I'm not too invested. Should we go back and join the others now?"

"Sure."

They discover that the party has more than doubled, along with nearly everyone's blood alcohol levels. Dan follows Blair into the living room and they find that a real bartender has replaced Raina and they get in line for another round.

Midnight feels like it's still a century away but twilight creeps over the party faster than Dan would have expected. A drunk Epperley comes up to him at one point and asks him who he plans to kiss at midnight in a way that could insinuate it should be Epperly herself but more likely seems to be in reference to Blair who had stepped away to reapply lipstick.

He dodged the question by turning it back around on her. But the idea lingers in his brain and the more alcohol he consumes, the more the realization cements that he undeniably would like to kiss Blair.

But then, he remembers her date- or maybe it's not a date, but the reunion with her ex and can't decide if it's the worst or the best timing.

"What are you so deep in thought about?" Blair asks at 11:50. "Stop being so gloomy, it's almost midnight. Don't tell me you'd rather be with Georgina and co."

"Definitely not," He turns his attention away from the floor-to-ceiling window. "I just was deciding whether I'm dreading or looking forward to returning to school."

"I'm firmly divided between both. Excited to get back to Yale, classes, and passing notes with you. Not happy about having to see the devil incarnate, Georgina."

"That's fair." Dan agrees. "So let's not think about it yet. Should we go join this presumptive midnight countdown? I think most of them are way off, hopefully, someone sober enough will be able to take over the actual count down."

"That would likely be you." Blair says, finishing her drink and then fetching two flutes of champagne off a passing waiter's tray.

They cluster into the crowded living room and watch a muted flatscreen showing Time Square. Epperly nudges Dan in the back and when he turns, she's gesturing wildly toward Blair. She stops just before Blair glances over to see and then shoots Dan an apologetic smile.

The reminder of what he should do makes him feel paralyzed with nervous, overthinking energy. The clear-headed Dan of a few hours ago could have mentally weighed the ramifications of kissing Blair at midnight, but now with alcohol muddling his thoughts... Logic and desire seem like a poor match.

"Ten," the group chants. "Nine, eight…"

The count continues and he and Blair keep their eyes fixed ahead until it reaches three. "Two, one…"

He turns to face her, suddenly feeling a course of confidence and takes a step toward her. "Happy New Year, Blair."

Confetti dances across her features and her eyes drop, then reach his again, her expression changing as she leans forward and hugs him.

It's an overwhelming confirmation of the fact that he waited just a split second too long. "Happy New Year, Dan."

His foolish wish for her makes him hear disappointment in her tone. But it can't really be there.

"May this year bring more classes together, more notes, and less Georgina Sparks." Her expression is suddenly beaming and she holds out his glass to him.

He clinks his own flute against hers weakly. "And better soundtracks to long drives."

"Indeed," Blair takes a gulp of champagne as Dan downs his.

Tomorrow, he'll replay this one-minute moment so many times until it feels like it spanned an hour. But he won't find any traces of feelings that he can ultimately use to uncloud what must be a shifting dynamic between them.


	11. Tearoom Tableau

**Thank you to ASadAir for perfecting this chapter :) Hoping you all are staying safe & are in good health! Thank you for reading as always! **

* * *

The gilded interior of the tearoom with its mirror-clad walls and opulent lighting does little to soothe Blair's hangover as she is guided by the hostess to meet Marcus. Feeling another pang of regret for scheduling this reunion on a day she would obviously be hungover, Blair lets out a sigh. Her head pulses again in protest with this morning's plans and she spots-checks her reflection in a nearby mirror, only briefly wincing at her undereye circles.

As they approach the reserved table, she discovers that Marcus has arrived politely early and is already occupying one side of the velvet tufted booth. Taking in his appearance, she decides that he looks somehow exactly how she remembered and also like a man she wouldn't recognize. The boyish roundness that had been on his face during adolescence has been replaced with high cheekbones and a strong jawline that softens as she nears.

"Blair," Marcus rises from the booth, leaning forward to kiss her on both cheeks. "You look beautiful."

Blair feels flattered by what has to be a lie. She saw her reflection enough times this morning to know it's really not her day appearance-wise. But her good manners keep her from calling him out so instead, she greets him politely. "Thank you. It's so great to see you. It feels surreal."

She takes her seat across from him and instinctively surveys the menu to distract her wandering mind.

"It really does feel surreal, doesn't it?" His eyes twinkle with amusement. "I have to admit, I think you were always the best memory for me back here. I felt a little underwhelmed when I arrived in the city earlier this week. But now, you're here and it finally feels how I remember it."

Blair smiles nervously, wondering what to say. In the few minutes that have passed, she realized that it's quite possible he's more invested in this reunion than she is. Not once in the past few days has she rehearsed this moment. It's suddenly clear he's been nostalgic for a time in her life that was so engrossed in isolation and despair, that she had to block out most moments, including the good ones.

"So catch me up on the last few years, how is it in Parliament?" She should have Googled British government structure before coming to meet him. Blair feels semi-confident than a Lord is a member of Parliament but she's been far too distracted to be certain.

Instead of preparing for today's meeting, she spent this morning trying desperately to match her recollections of last night to Raina and Epperly's. She hasn't told them about it but she's sure that she and Dan had a flicker of something around midnight. Like an almost kiss? But even with her inconspicuous line of questioning, she only discovered that Raina was too busy kissing Nate to notice and Epperly was so drunk that she blacked out.

The moments before midnight are all that's been replaying in her head and she's not quite sure why she's so captivated with the hazy memory. She's caught herself at least five times imagining what nearly played out. But then she reminds herself that her life is not a move, nor a romantic comedy as Epperly insists, and such cinematic almost-moments never happen in real life.

Blair tunes in halfway through Marcus' explanation and she curses herself for not listening. She nods, hoping it's the right response.

"And you?" Marcus prompts. "How is Yale? I was so pleased for you when I heard you got in."

"It's amazing, it's just like I imagined. I love the campus, my courses, my classmates, and everything really, except for my psychotic roommate…" Blair lets out a breath, deciding not to focus on the negative. "But, back to you, tell me more."

Blair tries to focus on what Marcus is saying as she lets her tea go cold, her jewelry-clad hands swirling the cup endlessly. She finds herself idly wondering what Dan is up to right now and whether they had made plans to meet up again before the drive back to Yale. She can't quite remember if they had discussed that last night.

"Claire?" Just as Blair picks up her dry scone from the plate set in front of her, she hears a voice that causes her to drop it, letting it fall with a hard clank.

"Oh God." Blair can't will herself to turn around.

Marcus is peering around Blair's shoulder, curiously. "Do you know that girl?"

Blair makes herself turn and sees Georgina stomping toward them, a mock cheery smile on her face. She's wearing the most inappropriate outfit for a tearoom, although the studded stilettos and black cutout mini-dress really don't surprise Blair. "It is you! Ha, I should have guessed. Is this Nate? Wait, no, I don't recognize you…"

She's hovering over the table inspecting Marcus with raccoon-eyes before he offers his hand. "Lord Marcus Beaton."

"Lord? Why, how ever so delightful to meet you." Georgina suddenly adopts a tone straight out of Pride & Prejudice and the high and strange octave makes Blair cringe. Without invitation, Georgina comfortably slides into the seat beside Blair, as though they are friends.

"I take it you know, Blair?" Marcus looks to Blair for reassurance.

"Georgina is my roommate." Blair manages and watches as recognition appears on Marcus's face. "What are you doing here, Georgina? Shouldn't you be downing Bloody Mary's and torturing waitstaff at brunch on the Upper East Side? Or like, somewhere far away from here." Blair adds under her breath.

"I was meeting someone, but he's late. So glad you're here, I hate waiting alone." She sighs heavily and then rests her chin on her hand.

A ringing begins from somewhere under the table and Blair prays it's Georgina's poor, unsuspecting date calling her. By the reluctant look on Marcus' face though, she surmises it's his and he has to take it. He mouths an 'I'm sorry' as he steps away, Georgina waving him off. "No worries, I'll keep Blair company."

Georgina's kohl-rimmed eyes are gleaming alarmingly and Blair wishes Dan were here to fend this menace off. He's the only person that seems to know how to disarm her. "Georgina, I really am not sure what you're doing here but if you don't mind, I'd prefer to be left alone."

Georgina smirks, leaning in like she's about to eat her prey. "Does Dan know you're here? Or Nate? How many stepping stones do you have by the way? I'm supposing that's what they are. First the boy with the estranged old-money family, then the boy who married into wealth, and now a British Lord? My, my how you climb, Blair. I would be impressed if I wasn't so fucking dubious." Georgina's tone takes a sudden, bitter tone.

"Listen," She continues. "I don't know what the fuck you think you're doing with Dan but I was always suspicious and now you've just confirmed everything I suspected of you. Stop using him. You're just his latest charity case and he'll be over you faster than he ditched the last penniless princess he dated. By the way, he was just hanging out with her the other day, so I guess you're boring him." She shrugs.

"Anyway, stay the fuck away from Dan. Your small-town act isn't cute and you'll always just be a nobody who for one minute, thought they were somebody. But don't let this blip in your life fool you. Five years from now, you'll be back in Yonkers or whether the hell you came from and this will all feel like a dream as you drive home from your job as an assistant and pick up the kids from daycare... You'll never be one of us."

Blair sits there stupefied and to her own horror, unable to think of one good comeback or defense. It feels like she's in the hallway of her high school all over again, listening to Juliet and Zoe trill, giggling over the fact she thought Damien wanted to date her. In the years that passed, a thousand comebacks came to her mind for that scene. But here she is all over again, rendered mute, and put in her place.

A clattering sound registers and it takes her moment to realize her teacup is shaking in her wavering grip. She sets it down and inhales sharply.

"Fuck you, Georgina." It's all she has time to say before Marcus returns. She pastes on a faux smile. "Georgina was just saying she has to go now, so sorry your date didn't show. Hope he didn't take one look and leave." She keeps her voice low enough that Marcus doesn't notice as he pockets his phone.

Georgina narrows her eyes at Blair and then leans over to kiss Marcus on the cheek. "Charming to meet you, hope I'll see you around."

"Have a lovely day." Marcus says, a little tersely. Once she's gone, he asks Blair. "Was that the mental roommate?"

The question almost makes her laugh, but tears still threaten to spill. She nods. "Yes, she's a nightmare. I think I may use the ladies' room, one moment."

She gets to her feet, unsteady, and rushes off after quickly righting herself. A breath escapes her and she desperately scours the tearoom for the restroom.

Blair doesn't even care if her exit just now was abrupt. She narrowly escaped the table before the first tear fell and by the time she reaches the bathroom now and clicks the door shut, her cheeks are properly dampened. She stares in the mirror, hating her reflection and wishing she never agreed to today. She remembers feeling like a princess back in high school when she was with Marcus, when it felt like a fairytale could come true. But now, as her red-rimmed eyes harshly assess her appearance, she finds every fault that proves she'll always just be what Georgina described.

_No, _she tries to tell herself, _you're so much more. Nate believes in you, Dan believes in you, Raina believes in you…_ But the words 'charity case' echo in her head and she has to use all her willpower to let those words not drive her back into her old ways of comfort.

Glancing toward the empty row of stalls, she turns away and faces her reflection once more. It's the uncertainty that hurts the most, she decides. Just like with Juliet and Zoe, she has no idea why Georgina carries this vendetta against her. It's like she'll always wear some scarlet letter, invisible to herself, but there for the rest of the world to see her as the prey.

Reaching for a pack of tissues in her purse, Blair sees her phone is lit up with a text.

_Hey, how are you feeling? Are we still on for Brooklyn this afternoon? _

The text from Dan would normally make her smile but this time, hesitation prevents her from replying. Instead, she takes the tissues and pats her cheeks dry. She reapplies lipstick and dots some on her cheeks to hide their pallor. She tests out a smile, trying to see how likely she is to convince Marcus that she is not totally mid-meltdown.

Blair glances at the door and decides she needs another moment before she can head back out there. She reaches for her phone and summons every ounce of positivity in her veins as she types back:

_Sure, 4 PM? _

Dan's reply is instant.

_Sounds good, I'll meet you at Raina's. _

Another glance in the mirror affirms that she looks calmer and like she hasn't just been reamed by the wicked witch of the Upper East Side, so she heads back to the table. She makes it through dessert with Marcus before making her excuses and leaving him to return to his work. She promises him she'll try to keep in touch but it feels like a lie.

When she gets back to Raina's, she finds a note on the counter, _Out for lunch with my dad. Help yourself to anything. Xo, R. _

Truly alone at last, Blair heads to the guest bedroom, sinks down on the bed, and lets herself cry.

* * *

"Is everything okay? Are you hungover? Or tired?" Dan asks with an undercurrent of concern on the subway ride over. It's empty; most New Yorkers still home nursing headaches and exhaustion from last night's festivities. The silent ride makes it even easier for Blair to keep replaying the shame of what Georgina said. "I feel like you haven't been yourself."

Blair detects concern in the warmth of Dan's deep brown eyes and a pang of guilt hits her for making him fret. At the realization, she feels a wave of emotion thinking about how she matters enough for him to be worried.

Willing herself to forget about Georgina's maniacal warnings, she lets out a protracted exhale. "I ran into Georgina when I was out with Marcus."

Dan stops. "Seriously? What was she doing there?"

"She said she was meeting someone, I don't know." Blair sighs. "Instead, she made herself comfortable right next to me, never mind Marcus."

Dan is quiet for a moment. "What did Marcus think? What did she say?"

"He had to take a business call. So it was just the two of us..." Blair hesitates. "She had a lot to say."

"About?" Dan prompts, tentatively.

Blair's heart longs to let the hurt out, to find solace in Dan's empathetic gaze, and to release the seeds of worry Georgina roughly planted. But her head reminds her that she can't truly trust anyone, not even Dan who has never shown her anything but kindness. He is one of them, after all. When all is said and done, these will be the people he returns to.

Besides, she realizes, if she confides in him now she'll almost certainly get teary again. The wounds are too deep, too tied to her outcast adolescence. What he thinks matters so much to her and she's so invested in him seeing her in the best light possible, she couldn't bear his pity. So instead, she forces a smile that conceals her inner shame spiral. "Just her usual unhinged nonsense. You know her."

Dan is quiet, looking briefly unconvinced. For a moment, it seems like he might press the subject further but then the metallic voice of the conductor comes through the speaker announcing that they have arrived at York Street and she steps toward the car doors, leaving the conversation behind in the cold train.

Blair lets her fog of sadness and the feeling of not being enough hang over her as they trek through Brooklyn. A few smiles fight their way through as Dan makes her laugh about how Jenny's favorite neighborhood used to be DUMBO because she thought it was named after the movie. And he even makes her wish that it could always be like this, the two of them, far from Georgina Sparks and the Upper East Side she'll never belong to.

But she knows it's impossible.

Maybe if it weren't for the run-in with Georgina or her deep insecurities with her status and social class, the significance of the day with Dan would instill a sense of trust in Blair; he spent the whole day showing her a special place that defined him. But instead, after only a flicker of recognition that quickly gets replaced by denial, Blair lets herself believe that this lovely afternoon was just a natural part of his charity case routine. As she says goodbye to Dan, she remains unaware of their similarities.


	12. Spring Semester

**AN: I hope everyone has been safe and well. I'm sorry for the delay, it's been tricky finding a rhythm of writing. Thank you though to the wonderful ASadAir who encourages me to keep going and ensures this story is consistent and precise. Also, thank you new readers (and re-readers) who have left me comments in recent weeks. Your comments definitely motivated me to get back to publishing updates!**

* * *

Unlocking the door to his dorm, Dan feels oddly underwhelmed being back in his dorm room. Perhaps subconsciously he expected to return from winter break a changed man.

But nothing's changed. His friendship with Blair remains the same. His roommate is still never around and virtually non-existent. And he still feels like a grand romantic declaration is waiting to pour out of him.

He just can't quite figure out where he and Blair are heading these past few weeks. On New Year's Eve, it seemed they were both open to exploring something more beyond friendship. Then, they spent the afternoon in Brooklyn and although he was physically close to her and outside the confines of the classroom and Yale, it felt like they drifted even farther apart.

At the time, he decided it was probably just her hangover and it would pass. But, after seeing how distant she was, he determined it was best to keep his feelings to himself. Although they were constantly connected by text, the days that followed between New Year's and spring semester were spent apart, until at last they were in his dusty old car headed back to New Haven.

Now that he's back on campus, he still has the feeling that Blair remains far from his reach despite their proximity. Dan sighs and begins unpacking.

By sunrise the next morning, Dan is filled with enough enthusiasm attempt a return to normalcy. It's the first day of classes, two of which are shared with Blair. It'll be easy to fall back into their old and familiar rhythm, he hopes.

As he walks into his second class of the day, Introductory Film Writing and Directing, he finds himself wondering if his feelings will have melted along with the snow from winter break.

He feels a tap on his shoulder and turns, "Hello, do I look directorial?" It's Blair and she's wearing an all-black ensemble with her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail.

"You look like Audrey Hepburn in Funny Face."

Beaming, she turns and follows him up the steps. Having arrived early, they slide into two seats toward the back in the empty lecture hall. "How was Postmodern Italian?"

"It was fascinating and it's only day one. You're missing out." Dan replies dryly. "Latin 125b?"

"Epperly is in my class so it was great." She smiles. "I have a good feeling about this semester."

When she looks at him, he feels a sharp dip in his stomach that signals the feelings from winter break are just as alive as ever. He manages to say. "Me too."

"I don't suppose you want to know why I have a good feeling, do you?" Blair asks.

He doesn't know why but he feels oddly hopeful as he replies. "I would like to know."

"Well I hope I'm not jinxing myself but I think Georgina might be gone… She didn't show up yesterday and then this morning when I woke up all of her things were gone." Blair explains. "You haven't heard anything have you?"

"I have not." Dan is suddenly curious. "What exactly happened again when you ran into her?"

The light in Blair's expression fades. "I don't even remember exactly. Anyway, I shouldn't get my hopes up. She probably went on a winter break shopping spree at Pottery Barn and has a new dresser and desk arriving this afternoon."

"Roche Bobois." Dan says before he could stop himself. "She likes Roche Bobois. I wish I didn't know that."

The light in Blair's eyes fully extinguishes and her disappointment is evident in her tone. "Right. Silly, uncultured me."

There's a deeper emotion clouding over her features that he can't place. It feels like he's missing something, but before he can ask her, the professor takes her stance at the podium, ending this opportunity for clarity.

* * *

The following day Dan and Blair share Classic Hollywood Narrative and this time, Blair passes Dan a note. The note passing lasts long enough for Dan to feel like yesterday was a blip and that he simply imagined the wave of anguish that came over Blair at the mention of Georgina's shopping preferences.

By Friday, it feels like they are back on track as they review their syllabi and notes from the week in the library. Dan remembers that he hasn't told her the exceptionally great piece of news he's been saving until he was certain.

"Hey," He uses a low tone, leaning closer even though they're alone in a reserved room. "I have some news you may find interesting."

"What's that?" Blair seems distracted, only briefly glancing up from her notebook.

"It involves Georgina."

Blair closes her notebook. "Okay, I'm listening."

"Serena last night confirmed that Georgina has officially deferred. The last Serena heard, she was on a plane bound for Dubrovnik." Dan keeps his expression neutral, waiting.

"Dubrovnik, Croatia correct? There's not another Dubrovnik somewhere in the vicinity of Yale? I want to make sure I have this correct."

"Over 4,000 miles, I believe."

Blair looks at him and says very calmly, "I suppose this is cause for celebration."

She packs up her books and then pulls out her phone. After a brief rhythm of texting, she rises, her bag in hand. "Raina is at some party in Welch. Are you coming?" She looks up at him expectantly.

"Don't you have a strict no parties policy this semester?"

"I did. But tonight is an exemption."

"Okay."

They stop by Blair's dorm first so she can drop off her books and get visual confirmation that Georgina is really gone. After a quick survey and nod of approval, they take off for the party.

Once inside the stuffy dorm room, Blair does a quick succession of vodka shots that both alarms and amuses Dan. He does two and winces. "Feel better?"

"Much." She glows. As the alcohol kicks in, Raina and Blair proceed to have a long conversation about Georgina's departure and all the great uses for the extra space in the dorm.

"Hey, Dan." Epperly nods at Dan. "How was the rest of your break?"

"Dull, yours?"

"Same." She shrugs. "By the way, did I say hi to you on New Year's Eve? I feel like we talked at some point but it's all such a blur."

"We talked." Dan chuckles. He doesn't want to remind Epperly but he's frankly a little relieved she doesn't remember all her less-than-subtle attempts to encourage him making a move on Blair. It's possible she's somewhat responsible for him realizing his feelings.

"Oh, cool. Well, I'm glad we caught up before I got tanked this time. By the way, Blair seems headed that route." Epperly smirks, watching Blair do another shot.

"That cannot be good. I don't think she even ate dinner. We've been together since 3…" Dan looks at Epperly.

"I'll intervene." Epperly says confidently. She hooks her arm through Blair's and leads her toward the kitchen. He watches Blair sway slightly and then glances down at his phone.

Their eyes meet as she glances back at him with a mischievous grin. Abruptly, she breaks away from Epperly and heads straight for the row of bottles on the counter. Dan lets out a sigh, already predicting that Blair's no party policy is far from her mind.

Across the room, Epperly mouths "_I tried",_ before downing another shot herself.

From there, the night blurs into an endless evening of making small talk with sophomore strangers and trying to keep Epperly and Blair from total alcohol annihilation.

* * *

When Blair wakes up, she's fairly certain she has suffered a serious trauma. It throbs more than she knew was possible and her mouth is so dry it somehow hurts. As she sits up she sees a glass of water sitting on her nightstand along with two pain relieving tables and a note, _You might need these. Text me when you are awake. Oh and eat something, I think you haven't eaten since lunchtime yesterday. -Dan (and Epperly)_

Epperly's hastily tacked-on handwriting is so messy that she knows she must have been equally drunk.

Blair takes the tablets, chugs the water, and then slowly climbs out of bed. She finds a granola bar on her desk and unwraps it, feeling simultaneously more nauseous and less weak.

It's not until she sees the empty bed across the room that she remembers why she drank herself into oblivion last night. Finding her phone, she texts Dan, Thank you for making sure I got home okay. Epperly did too?

As she sends it, she fights off an odd twinge of envy at the thought of Dan walking Epperly home. An image of them kissing crosses her mind and she quickly blames it on the hangover. Climbing back into bed, she falls asleep and lets her dreams erase the unpleasant imagery.

When she wakes up again, she has two unread texts. One from Dan and one from Epperly.

_You alive? Thank God for Dan walking us both home. He also saved me from a detour to Wally's to declare my undying love :0_

_She mostly did, with some detours along the way. She tried to throw rocks at some guy named Waldo's window because she thought it was romantic and to 'Carpe diem'. Coffee?_

Blair replies to Dan first:

_Wally not Waldo. And yes please. 15 minutes?_

Texting Epperly she says:

_Did Dan leave you with water and Tylenol too?_

Her reply is instant:

_No :| I forgive him, I guess_

She feels a tiny flicker of pleasure at that and then feels bad. He probably just didn't want to rummage through her dorm.

Dan ends up bringing the coffee to Blair's dorm as it takes her longer than expected to hide her hangover with multiple layers of moisturizer and foundation. When she opens her dorm room door, he's bearing more than coffee.

"Hi, croissant?" Dan walks in and hands her a coffee and paper bag.

"My hero." Blair takes it graciously and sinks down on her bed. Dan takes a seat on Georgina's empty bed.

"Have you decided yet what you're going to do with all this empty space?" Unlike Blair, he looks like he's had a full eight hours of sleep and there are no traces of a hangover. "You could easily see if the RA can arrange to clear the bed out."

"How are you so alert right now?" Blair sips her coffee. "I am seriously never drinking again."

Dan laughs. "Or at least never doing shots again?"

She nods. "So what are you doing today? I'll be making up for missed study hours for the foreseeable future."

"It was one night. How much could you have missed?"

Blair lets out a sigh. "It's different for you. You don't have strict GPA guidelines hanging over your head."

Dan nods. "That's true." He pauses. "Can I help you catch up on studying?"

Blair's face brightens as she passes him a stack of notecards. "Sure, quiz me. I hope your latin pronunciation isn't barbaric."

"Suus 'non."

Blair gives him an impressed glance but then he smirks. "Saw that written on your flashcard but worked to prove my point."

"Thank you." Blair says gratefully. The immense pressure she feels to keep her grades up is so much to bear on her own and not something she can vocalize to her mother without worrying her. Maybe, just maybe, she's finally found someone she can confide in.

Ignoring the shadows of Georgina lurking all around where Dan sits, she wills the words charity case out of her mind.

Best friend seems like a good replacement.

"Anytime." He smiles back.

* * *

Blair has a full dorm room again, at least for the evening. Epperly and Raina sit on what was formerly Georgina's bed. Nelly Yuki is beside Blair on hers, focused on studying unlike the rest of the girls.

"So any update on the Wally front?" Blair asks, filing her nails with Raina's neon buffing block.

"Sort of," Epperly sports a Cheshire-cat smile. "He asked me to come over tomorrow night to hang."

"To hang?" Raina repeats, nose wrinkled.

Blair laughs. "Well, at least that's something."

Epperly nods. "I think. I mean, his roommate Colin will probably be there but it's a start."

"Wally?" Nelly asks, belatedly.

"Epperly's been in love with him since the first day of the fall semester."

Nelly nods, knowingly. "I have one of those."

Blair quirks a brow. "His name is Todd," Nelly continues. "He doesn't know I exist."

"Aw," Epperly goes all doe-eyed. "Well, let's do something about that!"

"I don't think so." Nelly looks back down at her textbook. "He listens to Flo Rida and is definitely cooler to me. He probably would get in the way of my studies."

Blair gives Epperly a shrug that says, You tried.

"What about you, Blair?" Nelly looks back up. "What's happening with you and Dan?"

Epperly and Raina exchange a knowing look that makes Blair uneasy before turning their laser-like gazes on her. "Yes, Blair, what is happening with you and Dan?"

Blair pretends not to notice their insinuations and interest. "He helped me study yesterday and then we grabbed coffee. Really dull, I know. Should we get back to discussing something other than guys? A dorm room conversation about boys is a bit trite."

"Whatever," Epperly says breezily. "I've got an idea. Since you and Dan are clearly just friends and have zero interest in dating, why don't you come over to Wally's with me tomorrow? You can entertain Colin while I 'hang' with Wally."

"Entertain him?" Blair echoes.

"You make it sound like she should give him a lap dance or something." Raina laughs so hard that she has to latch onto a pillow.

"Stop!" Epperly says giggling. "You both know what I mean. Nelly, don't you?"

"Yes," Nelly replies unamused and seemingly slightly irked to be disturbed again. "You want her to be your wingwoman."

"See," Epperly agrees. "You'd be helping a friend."

"I've never even met Colin." Blair says quickly, not liking this idea at all. "That sounds really uncomfortable."

"Come on, college is supposed to be a little uncomfortable." Epperly pleads. "How else do you make memories?"

"By not putting myself in precarious situations." Blair drops the buffing block and picks up a bottle of base coat.

"It might make Dan jealous." Nelly cuts in.

"I have zero interest or reason to make Dan jealous." Blair huffs in annoyance. Her solar plexus keeps flurrying with a buzzing sensation each time Dan's name comes up. "Can't Raina go instead?"

Raina shakes her head. "I have a Skype date."

Blair rolls her eyes, knowing exactly who that Skype date is with.

"If it helps motivate you, Dan might be dating too." Nelly shuts her book, clearly having given up on studying. "There's this blonde girl, Eva, in French class that is always flirting with him. Although, I'm not sure he's noticed. His French is terrible, she's practically seducing him with her advances at this point but they keep getting lost in translation."

A cold shiver sweeps over Blair and causes her to accidentally drop the polish. It lands on her duvet and she tries to pick it up before the girls notice. When she glances up at her friends, she can tell playing it nonchalant is going to be a bit tricky. "Oh, that sounds… romantic I guess."

"Exactly." Nelly nods fervently. "If I were you, I would go on the date."

"It's not exactly a date." Epperly cuts in. "Although, it could be."

Blair lets out a breath. "This has all been a lot to take in. Not that it has upset me," She adds when noting the alarms on the other girls' faces. "Epperly, can I let you know tomorrow?"

"Sure." She smiles. "No pressure, thanks for considering it."

"And Nelly?" Blair asks. "Maybe you could try sitting next to Dan? You know to help him improve his French and if that means stealing Eva's seat, no big deal, right?"

Nelly smiles, looking pleased to be in on a plot. "Right."

Raina looks across at Blair with a sensible smile and nods approvingly.

"By the way," Nelly says. "We all totally failed the Bechdel test tonight."

"That's okay." Epperly grins. "I always tell Blair her life is a romantic comedy and those always fail that test."

* * *

**TBD...**

**Continuing on from my message above, I took a break from writing recently so I have quite a bit to catch up on but I am going to try my best to get this story updated soon. Thank you so much for continuing to read, your support means a lot! **


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